Isn’t it nearly impossible to not cheat on one’s plans? For me, that is the temptation and thrill of sewing. There’s always something new being dangled before me. I bought the January Burda magazine the other day and this dress jumped out at me. I have the impression that the dress would look really good on me, and goodness knows I have more than enough lightweight wool to go around. It would also work very well with my embroidered belt plan. My plan for my SWAP dress is, however, the Fabiani one, which I also love:
I kind of want to stick with the Fabiani dress for SWAP, as it could also work in linen, although it is less likely to “go” with my Valentino jackets (proportions wrong).
It would be very risky to make another dress and then try to fit the Fabiani dress into SWAP, but I tend to be a bit crazy. Thanks, by the way, for all of your input on shirts. I realized that I need to think about the shirts in the context of the other SWAP garments. For this SWAP, the pants that I am going to make are going to be somewhat wide-legged, gathered, or full. In this case, it is obvious that I should go for a more fitted shirt. I usually make skinny pants and I have plenty of those, so I can aim for oversized shirts in the summertime. Your thoughts and suggestions were helpful and useful: thanks. Actually, Tia even suggested a pattern to me from the February 2013 Burda, which I tried to buy on Monday, unsuccessfully, as I couldn’t pass the “Are a you a robot?” test on their site and gave up. Imagine! In any case I was saved by my robotic qualities as it turned out that I already had the magazine in my collection, so I will make a toile of that one when the time comes.
Fundamentally, I just need to start sewing, period, so I am going to pick something and start sewing it tomorrow morning before I have time to think. Do you have problems like this, in deciding what to make? I am in a very busy period at work and so often get home after 8 p.m., which means that by the time I eat and sit down to relax a bit there is no time to start sewing. As a result, all of my pent up crafting energy gets wrapped up in trying to optimize my weekend time. I don’t do well when I feel the pressure to do something! I tend to freeze. So I am giving myself a short list:
finish Valentino suit
sew shirt
sew “new” Burda dress pattern
toile Fabiani
In any case, while my chicken was cooking the other evening, I completed the back of the fish vest. I am very happy with the experience of this vest. I have enjoyed trying stranded knitting and my technique clearly improved as I progressed. Although I think for a bigger object I would knit in the round when stranding, in this case it worked to my advantage to knit the front and back separately as I am improving as I go. The second set of fish at the top of the back look quite smooth, as I used a combination of stranded knitting in the middle and intarsia in the top part where there is more background colour. I can say decisively that stranded knitting is easier than intarsia because it is less fiddly. You are carrying the same two colours through a row and so you don’t have balls of yarn getting twisted. Intarsia takes much more patience, so if you are going to start with a colourwork project I would suggested stranded colourwork or, if intarsia, something small or only a few blocks of colour or pattern. Perhaps you, unlike me, have infinite patience, in which case do as you like!
It’s actually looking pretty neat, although the yarn is tweedy, which gives some variation. Not sure this photo is much better. But I’m happy. It’s all good.
When I had this folded up in front of me the other evening I was imagining this stacked up with other lovely knits. I could imagine my iceberg sweater and an Emily Carr sweater. I’d also like to make a beautiful, highly cabled aran in a plain colour this year. I think I have a plan for knitwear for the rest of the year. I’m always torn between plain, functional knits and the more creative stuff. I’m leaning towards the creative stuff at the moment as it is so much fun to do, although the classic stuff is always well-worn.
What I really need to do next I think is contextualize my plans, i.e. research “Canadian” fashion over the years. I need a “hook” or an anchor. I need to understand what shirts Canadian women wore and what trousers they wore during outdoor activities. I still want to make that bustier and I can’t quite figure out how to fit it in. This is all problematic. I am going to do some research and I will report back..
Incidentally, I felt somewhat unoriginal when I saw that my fellow Canucks had also considered fish imagery. I won’t – don’t worry – be putting a bass on my …
I’m writing as I’ve realized that I have a huge amount to do to bring my SWAP 2017 to fruition in the time available, particularly if I end up in Italy for an extended period by mid-April. Writing helps me to think through and approach issues. That said, I realized after reading Sunday’s post that I need a hard word cap. Does anyone know of a program that causes one’s computer to explode once 700 or 800 words are reached?
I’ve done so little sewing recently that I am yearning to make something. I often see those bloggers who make an outfit every two days and marvel at how they can possibly wear so many clothes (no judgment: if you want five hundred outfits that’s between you and your fabric). I know I gravitate to a more selective approach, but it’s gone too far. I need something new – pronto – and the Valentino suit is taking too much time. Sorry, Valentino. Maybe I need to shove you aside for the Fabiani dress…
The blue striped or the blue checked fabric will likely become a shirt for SWAP 2017. I think the striped fabric would work very well under my fish vest.
So the subject of this post is shirts. I plan to make two shirts for SWAP 2017. I love shirts, so this has a great deal of appeal. As noted, I also have this fabulous orange and grey wool-silk check fabric that I am hankering to get my hands on.
I love oversized shirts on women, but a doubt has assailed me. Example, from my Pinterest. Example 2. Bigger/oversized. Maybe I’m overthinking this, as usual, but it strikes me that “fitting” a shirt to be oversized is not necessarily obvious. How much should the shoulders slouch over the actual shoulders? How much of an FBA should be done to retain proportions? I don’t like shirts that I am constantly pulling down or shifting around. Do you have any experience fitting or sewing oversized shirts? (I am not talking tunics, as I would likely wear the shirt tucked in most of the time.) Would you make a men’s shirt?
I traced a Burda pattern for a simple, straight shirt in a size bigger than I would usually cut and some paper fitting showed that the fit would be especially poor from the shoulder to the bust, which got me thinking about this subject.
SWAP 2015 shirt (TNT pattern). Don’t you marvel at old photos of yourself? I look older than this now and it has only been two years. Each year I think about how at least another 1% of my life has passed by. Cheerful thoughts! Decrepitude, here I come.
Same pattern
On the other hand, I already have my TNT basic shirt that I fitted a couple of years ago. I paper fitted it last night and the fit seems to still be relatively good. I could slightly increase the FBA. I was also thinking that I’d add a pleat or two in back (maybe a small pleat on each side, a few inches from the shoulders, as I have a shirt with that detail and it is really pretty). What do you think? What would you do if you were trying to “fit” an over-sized shirt? What type of shirt fitting do you like? The only fitting I don’t like is very fitted shirts. It doesn’t fit my tomboy style, I suppose. I look best in long, slim pants, so a little bit of volume is called for on top. I also have narrow shoulders. In addition, I have a full bust, so a fitted shirt draws attention there in a way that doesn’t appeal to me. In the summertime I like a nice breeze flowing through.
OK, I’m reaching my word limit so I am cutting myself off.
In addition to the above, I think the orange check needs a more generous sleeve style. I had something in mind and then Marc Jacobs brought it to life! And I can’t seem to find the photo that I saw the other day…Imagine red or orange check with full sleeves. Maybe I made a mistake and it was actually this outfit I saw. It’s as though Marc Jacobs got into my head. Really, into my head.
Shirt input gratefully accepted. I have plenty of Burda Magazines so I will try to find a usable pattern in there, rather than buying a pattern, but style suggestions help.
Thanks, too, for your kind comments about the fish. The vest is flying off my needles so I am pleased by that. I am terrified as to how I am going to execute the iceberg sweater, but also excited. If that goes well, I may have time to add a third, cabled sweater to the collection. Knitting is my comfort zone, but that is why I need to do more sewing and especially to tackle jackets. Do you tend to fall into “crutch” zones in your making, too?
My version of “fast” fashion. I tried knitting canoes into the top part of the back, but it looked silly so unfortunately those were scrapped and now I am knitting in more fish. Hmm…I just observed that I have a cushion in the perfect velvet for my 1970s velvet jacket…I haven’t yet found that fabric.
*This book is about the internment of Japanese Canadians during WWII, so not at all cheerful and not the subject of this post. I read the book in grade school and the language at the beginning stayed with me.
It’s Sunday morning and I’m writing again. You might get the impression that as soon as I grab my morning coffee I feel the urge to write, and that might be true.
When I was about ten I used to complete my work too quickly and so my teacher would always tell me to fill the spare time by writing stories. I don’t remember being particularly interested in those stories, but I would fill pages and pages of paper with endless stories. I wish my teacher had instructed me in the balance between writing and editing, although I will try to keep this brief (unsuccessfully, undeniably!).
I had fully intended to sew yesterday – I even skipped yoga, in spite of my friends’ texts trying to change my mind yesterday morning** – but I started to focus on my knitting and thought it was reasonable to tackle the “fish” vest. I figured that if I had a handle on the fish vest, I could complete it in small increments after work. I can’t get much done on weeknights as I am often home late.
So without further ado…
** I like my yoga class and my yoga teacher, but honestly, I am not an ideal yoga person. There are windows in my classroom and when not downward dogging or planking I am looking out at a park in which people walk their dogs, analyzing people and their dogs and thinking that the class ought to be over soon. Really, a lot of people DO look like their dogs. There is one lady in particular who wears a golden shearling coat and has puffy, bleached blonde hair and a fluffy golden dog with fur booties…
Intarsia versus stranded/fairisle knitting
I was asked in the comments yesterday about the difference between intarsia and stranded knitting, so if it’s helpful to someone I thought I’d write a brief description, starting with stranded knitting, which I am using for my current SWAP 2017 fish vest project. I am not an expert at all in stranded knitting – really just a novice – so I am not someone to turn to for advice. Fair isle is basically stranded knitting but the term is used to refer to knitting in the style of the area of Scotland (Fair Isle, in the Shetland Islands) that it comes from. I rediscovered intarsia a couple of years ago, on the other hand, and enjoy that, so I feel more confident in that domain. Intarsia involves knitting colour blocks or motifs on a sweater rather than smaller more repetitive motifs, and so does not use stranding. Both techniques are referred to as “colour work” or “colour knitting.” There are other colour work techniques but I know nothing about them!
I do not have ancestors from the Shetland Islands, that I know of, but I do have ancestors who came to Canada from Islay (Inner Hebrides). Kate Davies of Kate Davies Designs (popular blog) is in the process of presenting a collection, including colour knitting, that is inspired by Islay. To be perfectly honest, I am not an unreserved fan of KDD, although I know that some people who read this blog are. I don’t want to be unkind or to make conjectures, so I prefer not to share why I hold this opinion, but it is based on a number of observations I have made over the years.
In regard to Fair Isle, Wikipedia says:
Fair Isle is a traditional knitting technique used to create patterns with multiple colours. It is named after Fair Isle, a tiny island in the north of Scotland, that forms part of the Shetland islands. Fair Isle knitting gained a considerable popularity when the Prince of Wales (later to become Edward VIII) wore Fair Isle tank tops in public in 1921. Traditional Fair Isle patterns have a limited palette of five or so colours, use only two colours per row, are worked in the round and limit the length of a run of any particular colour.
Some people use the term “Fair Isle” to refer to any colourwork knitting where stitches are knit alternately in various colours, with the unused colours stranded across the back of the work. Others use the term “stranded colourwork” for the generic technique and reserve the term “Fair Isle” for the characteristic patterns of the Shetland Islands.
I have been knitting for a long time, but that does not mean that I am an expert in knitting. There is always something new to learn. What a boring thing it would be to have hobbies that we had wrapped up into a little bundle and tied a ribbon on. I wouldn’t be very excited by that. I also don’t like thinking of myself as a “master” of any domain. Something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently is humility. Someone who is a mentor to me referred to their humility as their best quality as a manager and leader (even though this person is a smart and knowledgeable person). As I come up against various new challenges in my career I find that it can be difficult not to let ego get in the way, but it is essential in so many ways to cultivate humility. I always knew this, but grow in admiration of those who quietly and confidently achieve this. (I will make no political comments at this juncture, although if you’d like to read something on the subject Frank Bruni has a piece in the NYT. :))
So here’s my novice stranded knitting, with fish:
I explained the reasoning behind my choice to knit this flat, etc. etc. in yesterday’s post. The base design is Fyne by Marie Wallin, who is an accomplished Fair Isle knitter. The pattern is free and available on the Rowan website. I am customizing it with my own fish designs.
I’m pretty happy with the fish motifs, although I added too many dots to the fish on the right and obscured the face. Knitting this flat means that I am knitting the back first, however, and therefore can improve the motifs when I knit them on the front!
Obviously this is unblocked, and I worked really hard to keep my stranding even and not too tight, but I am still not perfectly happy with the fish area. I stranded the yarn across the back, twisting the unused background yarn every little while to carry that yarn across the work, which results in a bit of bubbling. If you have tips for improving this I am open to suggestions. I think it’s likely mostly an issue of practise makes perfect.
I also skipped the orange stripe in the middle of the fish, as I was uncertain about it, although I might give this a go for the front. In any case, it has been fun trying something new to me. Overall, I think I’m going to like it. I may end up having to make a second one based on what I learn on the first round.
You can maybe see the non-fish parts a bit more readily in this photo. The yarn is tweedy, so the clarity of the colours is affected by that. The colour in the photo looks a bit off, although you get the idea:
Back to intarsia versus stranded. As I mentioned, stranded knitting involves carrying the yarn in back:
This happens naturally in the pattern other than in the fish block because the pattern changes colour every few stitches. As a result, the areas outside of the fish area are fairly smooth and neat. It’s in the fish area, where I needed to carry the yarn over long stretches of background yarn, that it is not working very well. I wasn’t sure if intarsia would look funny here, however, as the work would be thinner over large stretches (without the stranded yarn doubling up the fabric).
So that brings me to intarsia. Two SWAPs ago, I made the Art Deco sweater, by adapting a Minerva pattern from the 1930s:
Still holding strong after two years of wear. Not bad.
The inside looks like this:
This is the inside of my Art Deco sweater, showing the intarsia technique, i.e. no stranding of yarn across the work.
This is intarsia, which is done by adding in yarn at the point at which you knit colour blocks. The ends are then woven in later on. You do this because it would be messy to carry unused yarns over large single-colour blocks (ahem, see example above). It has the advantage of not producing bubbling over the coloured areas, but it has to be worked carefully at the join points to avoid producing holes. I enjoy working in intarsia, but you have to carry around balls of yarn behind the work (or at least spindles or something with some yarn on it to work mulitple rows), which can get picky and tedious as if you have multiple colour changes during a row the balls can get tangled. I had to develop a system to colour block this sweater effectively.
What do you think? Should I do the fish on the front of the sweater in intarsia, or would that be discordant? If there are any experts reading please do weigh in. Actually, in looking at this again, I think I have answered my own question: intarsia for the fish on the front!
I could easily continue writing but this is already long, so I don’t want to belabour it. I also DO want to sew today. Before I go though I want to mention something I thought about deeply as I wrapped up my knitting last evening. All of my life I have had ideas burbling in my head and often haven’t made it to the execution stage. The problem with executing the ideas that you have in your head (at least for me) is that the ideas never look as great as you imagined them. Or maybe it’s simply that when they are realized they can never have the magic of an untested idea. But a bit like cultivating humility, I know intuitively that to cultivate one’s creativity one needs to experiment with ideas, and work them out. Falling back on the same tricks all of the time is not a path to either growth or satisfaction.
OK, bon dimanche
Oops totally forgot to link this sweater, which is something I would LOVE to copy to some extent in the future. Cool, eh?
It’s the weekend! I can come up for air. Whee! Sometimes I feel a bit like a spawning salmon, desperately trying to get upstream….though in a good way of course! I’m really loving my life at the moment, apart from Gianni being so far away, so I can’t complain. The older I get the more I am able to focus on all of the little things that make a day wonderful. Who ever thought I could succeed in “living in the moment”? My monkey brain did not believe it…
Beginnings of stranded knit vest, with preliminary “fish” swatch. With some onion skins, for the win. Taken at night with my phone. My phone often wins for photos. It is smarter than I am, unfortunately.
As I mentioned to Lesley* in the comments to my last post, I’ve cast on the fairisle/stranded “fish” vest I plan to include in my SWAP. Although I admire traditional fairisle sweaters and vests, possibly especially on men, they’ve always seemed a little bit busy for me to put into my wardrobe. I tend to be a more spare and solid-colour or cable-oriented sweater person. I’m really loving this process, however, as I love “painting” with yarn. I’ve only ever done this kind of knitting before for cuffs and a couple of yokes, so it is interesting to make a simple vest. Getting the tension right is a primary challenge. On the whole though, although my intarsia knitting is neater, I find that this stranded knitting is a bit easier and quicker to do. That is because you’re using only two yarn colours per row and they tend to alternate back and forth in a pattern that stays the same across the row, e.g. three stitches in one colour, one stitch in the second colour, repeat, etc., so it is easy to memorize.
*Lesley is one of my favourite bloggers, both for the quality of her work and her personality. Somehow I had missed a slew of her posts because I was no longer getting the emails for her site. I don’t know how this happened, but if I am by some chance not dropping by your blog it could be because I have accidentally deleted the auto emails. Settings checked now though. I’m rather hopeless at blogs unless I receive a prompt.
The fish swatch is a bit rough as I did it quickly as a test swatch and so didn’t put much effort into carrying the yarns in back neatly, etc. I was really testing for colour and how the “gaps” looked. I have realized that I need to add more colour changes, i.e. more dots of the background pale blue within the fish, so that I don’t have to carry the back yarns over so many stitches or twist behind the work. I think I am also going to add an orange stripe through the middle of the fish, to mimic the rainbow trout (though the stripe on the fish is closer to pink in reality).
The base vest is “Fyne” by Marie Wallin, which I’ve adapted to my stitch counts and desired patterns. Although this type of knitting is probably best done with finer yarns, I’m using scraps of Rowan Felted Tweed (a light DK). All of the yarns used, except the background blue, were already in my knitting stash.
I made a conscious choice to knit this vest flat, even though this type of colourwork is usually worked in the round to avoid purl rows and seaming. I know that for some this is irrational, but I did it for a few reasons. One, I don’t like knitting in the round, although this is a small item so it wouldn’t be an issue of lugging around a big sweater, which I dislike. The second reason is that I like garments with seams, as they give solidity to the garment (for me). The third reason is that I don’t like the look of steeks on a v-neck, which this will be, and didn’t want to waste yarn knitting the extra stitches required. Basically what happens with this kind of knitting is that the knitter knits everything in the round and includes extra “steek” stitches where the knitting later on requires an opening – e.g., neckline or armholes. The knitter then cuts vertically through those stitches to open out the knitting, and finishes the cut edges in crochet or a sewn line, to stabilize the edge (onto which stitches are cast to knit the ribs or borders as the case might be). I am sure that one gets good at them, but the edges of steeked garments often look too lumpy to me and I thought I’d get a better edge with a standard techniques for shaping openings. Cutting knitting isn’t scary at all as knitting doesn’t unravel that way. So no big deal, if you want to do it.
In sum, I was not going into this completely uninformed and did think about my choices. I know about colour dominance (consistency in which colour is the background and which is not and so how you hold and carry the yarns as you work them). I am working to get my rhythm in terms of tension. I’m someone who learns by doing with my hands, and so I just work at it until I get it as I like it. So far, so good – not great, but OK – which is why I’m starting with the back! It’ll look better once blocked or steam-pressed.
What do you think? Should I dump the fish and make the original snowflakes?
The colour choices are also interesting. I showed my mom my fish drawings and told her the colours would be grey, green, blue and pink. She told me that I needed orange instead of pink and in fact I realized that that would give me a way to integrate my favourite orange and grey checked fabric into my SWAP collection. I also have always really liked blue and orange together. They are perfect complements of course. You see them often in van Gogh’s work (one of my favourites). He also uses green and red together, which when paired well also work nicely together.
Blue and orange also make me think of this sunset photo I took in Venice, a campfire by a lake…you know, the usual stuff.
Favourite orange and grey wool-silk,purchased in Florence and destined to be the best lumber lady shirt ever…
I mentioned recently that I am also keen to try some embroidery this year and that my fish sketches will likely be best rendered in embroidery (maybe on a dress). I’m not sure if I’m going to put fish on my trousers (!) but I have noted that embroidery on jeans is a trend at the moment. I don’t consider myself to be even remotely trendy, but I kind of like the idea:
A photo I took in Florence over the holidays. (I still especially love the flat boots and the long, fitted jacket.)
There are many examples of other styles on Pinterest. Examples:
I am loving all sorts of embroidery and embellishment on everything. If I had the patience I would likely try to embroider a jacket or cardigan. I love these two:
I write about this each year, so forgive me for that, but I get so very excited once the skating season begins. I get to commute to work on skates!
I had my inaugural skate to work on Monday morning. It’s the most wonderful thing you can imagine. I get both exercise and fresh air without any hustle and bustle. I arrive at the office with my skates slung over my shoulder. OK, so I am also a little bit sweaty under my parka, but hopefully no one notices.
When the canal skateway is fully open, the length is about 8 km, though my commute is not as long as that. Door to door, including putting on and taking off my skates, I only need about a half an hour.
I feel so happy each time I don my skates and set off in the morning light. How many people can say that about their commute!?
Today’s light was softer.It put me in a good mood at the start of the day.
And if I’m lucky, best friend C. leaves work at the same time and we skate home together. It’s almost more magical after dark. They sell snacks on the canal, too.
In any case, now that I have gotten that out of the way, I have a question and a comment. Does anyone know what is happening with the Stitchers’ Guild (hosts of SWAP)? The site has been down for a few days. I hope it is a resolvable server issue.
And speaking of SWAP, I made a discovery over the weekend. You may or may not remember that one of my knitted garments is going to be a sweater inspired by a Lawren Harris painting. I think the inspiration painting is going to be an iceberg, like in this gorgeous painting, but I still haven’t worked out the design:
Lawren Harris icebergs. Ellesmere Island, 1930. Exquisite.
Yarn:
I discovered something on the weekend that took me by surprise. Douglas Coupland has exhibited some digitized takes on paintings by famous Canadian landscape painters. Among these were Tom Thomson and Lawren Harris. I thought these two were extremely interesting:
Douglas Coupland take on Lawren Harris’s Pic Island.
Douglas Coupland take on one of Tom Thomson’s Stormy Sky paintings (no 7 apparently).
I don’t want to do anything so angular, but I’m trying to work out how to get the effect I want in intarsia. The softness of the yarns should help with that.
Well that’s all. I’m going to go and dream of perfect ice conditions, as unfortunately the weather is going to turn a little bit warm and the skating conditions may deteriorate for a few days.
I wrote this yesterday, and in the end I did do some sewing yesterday, as well as work on sorting out some final details for my SWAP collection (many fabrics and yarns spread out together to get a sense of harmony across the collection!). This is slightly random post about my trip to Venice, with very poor photos. I’ve stopped taking my DSLR to Italy because it’s too heavy and cumbersome, and it was only near the end of my trip that I figured out some stupid setting on my new camera that was overexposing my photos, so I mostly used my phone. That said, I’m just not a great photographer. I take photos on impulse, to record a feeling that flashes through me. I don’t have patience for posing, framing or tripods! I think there’s an analogue in my blog posting.
Italian Hours
That’s actually the title of a book by Henry James. I’m not suggesting that this will be on a par with that. I know I should be sewing, but I’m up and drinking my coffee and I have been wanting to write out a few of the bits of things I did over the holidays. Read at your peril!
I have a funny relationship with Italy, as you know. I have now been there I can’t even remember how many times. I am not joking when I say that it has to be at least thirty. In total I’ve probably spent a couple of years of my life there, and really, largely in Florence. All that said, something that always annoys me is when tourists try to “own” a place that is not really theirs. It just feels wrong. I leave it for the Italians and the Florentines to own their own home. I feel privileged that I can engage with it in ways that would be challenging for many tourists, but it’s not my place. I’m especially privileged to have an Italian “family,” who are open and inclusive with me, but I’m still a foreigner.
Unlike Florence, where most of the old signage has not been preserved, in places like Lucca and even in Venice, you can see neat things like the pavement mosaics that once offered directions to local shops and night spots.
All that said, when I am there I try to cherish the interesting and beautiful things that there are. I encounter different things each time and I try to engage with people as much as I can. When in Venice Gianni and I were in a library and we chatted briefly with some students who were studying there. Young people and their attitudes and beliefs are such a great entry point to what is happening on the ground. On the flip side, I have always enjoyed spending time with elderly people. Gianni aids me in this as he loves nothing better than having a long chat with elderly people. In Venice he took the opportunity to talk with any older person he could about how the city used to be and how things had changed. Gianni’s family vacations were always to Venice when he was a little boy during the 1970s, as his father was fond of Venice. They would stay at an elegant hotel for a week or ten days (the Danieli), which was affordable for a middle class family at the time. In some sense, having Gianni’s inside view of how things have changed (for the worse, undeniably) takes away some of the magic of the place, as it has done for Florence (it’s good to know things; but then again, sometimes it’s not).
In any case, after you get past the fact that most of the shops in Venice are selling Chinese-made “Murano” glass (just as most of the leather goods in Florence are no longer handmade (there are only a few workshops left), and if every restaurant in Florence claiming it is selling bistecca alla fiorentina were doing so, the “chianina breed of cattle would be extinct,” as Gianni likes to point out, with a cynical laugh), you can still feel the magic.
I often struggle with the fact that I am flying back and forth between my own lovely home and the beautiful places I get to see in Italy, with so many people in the world having basically nothing. When you think about it, it can make you completely miserable. But on that cheery note, I pass on some small notes from Venice.
By the way, if you are interested, I can recommend a documentary that I saw a couple of years ago, about the big cruise ships coming to Venice and the bleeding of Venetians from Venice, as it is no longer affordable for local residents. A bit like Florence, much of the centre has been emptied of Italians and turned into tourist apartments. It’s by a German director and is well done. I found it extremely interesting.
Probably the first thing I notice about Venice when I arrive there, apart from the hoards of confused tourists, is the Venetian accent. Personally I prefer the accent to the Florentine one, as it has more of a laid back vibe. One of the dangers of speaking another language though is that you can pick up slang and actual swear words easily, as they don’t have the taboo to you that swear words in your own language do. I unfortunately have picked up lots of minor swear words and slang that come directly to my tongue when I speak. I have to contain myself so that I don’t sound like a truck driver…Thanks, Gianni!
My favourite word that I started reciting while in Venice this time is this one, which basically means bullshit: puttanate (plural; singular: puttanata). (If you know any French or Italian then you probably already know what the root of that word means.) The Venetians have a great, sing-song way of saying this. It comes out like “poo – tan-NAH- tay.” Like a little boy who laughs when he farts, I like to say this word and giggle. Do we ever grow up? In the trailer for the documentary about Venice linked above, an elderly resident says puttanata while puffing on her cigarette, looking out towards the Laguna from her balcony. She also says bordello near the beginning, which basically means a mess (as in French: un vrai bordel). (Though it does, also, mean house of prostitution! The world hasn’t gone that mad!)
Something Canadians may be interested to hear is that Canada Goose has well and truly taken over Venice (go Winnipeg! I think there is also a factory near Toronto, though I could be mistaken. In fact I think the company is originally from Toronto, though I am too lazy to look it up.). I’ve been seeing their jackets trickle into Florence in recent years, although you still see only a few. Inspection last Christmas saw that the price tag was about 1000 Euro (or about $1,450 CAD) for a men’s parka at one of the more elite retailers in Florence, which is a lot! In Venice, however, they were everywhere. I even saw them on gondoliers.
Venetian gondolier (gondoliere), with clients paying for a ride. It’s really damp in Venice, which goes right to your bones in wintertime. I can understand why they want a down parka, especially as gondoliers do a lot of standing around outside.
That said, you see a lot of “parkas” on a walkabout in Venice that would not pass muster in Canada. For example, I wish I had a better photo of this one, because it is something to see. Even the front is pleated, so the whole thing puffs out in a circle around the person. This lady is obviously thin and so the parka cinches in at the waist and the remainder sits as a fluffy skirt. Talk about wind up your parka.
I especially liked watching the older people on their strolls in Venice. I didn’t manage to snap many photos, but there were some very elegant and dapper people around town. By the time I got my camera ready, they were receding into the distance:
This is a total stereotype, but honestly, Italians have better body language when they walk than we do, in my opinion. They look like the own their clothes, rather than the opposite. They also look like they have all the time in the world, which is great really.
There were of course furs. This lady was utterly fantastic, with her coiffure and sunglasses and make up. I wish you could see the whole outfit. And she had a stride. Look at the grey court shoes!
I was transported to the 1970s.
Confirming the fur presence that I have previously noted, I actually passed by this fur store by the Ponte Rialto on our last day there. There was even “Canadian lynx” in the window. (I didn’t even know that we export lynx.)
Canadian lynx (linciotto canadese, as the sign indicates):
Something interesting in Italy is that they are supposed to display the prices in the windows, by law. To get around this, retailers will post a sign that says “vetrina in allestimento,” which basically means that they are dressing the window display and so the prices are not there yet.
Anyhow, abstracting from the fur fashions, which I know are deeply offensive to some, I have to tell you a funny story.
Since I started learning Italian a number of years ago, I have been pleased to understand conversations going on around me. I love the way that Italians speak and I love Italian idioms, which are colourful. Mostly, like many, I love the rhythm and sound of the language. I also like that I can figure out pretty easily now when someone is trying to rip me off. The one disadvantage of learning a language, however, is that some of the romance disappears. For example, upon leaving the hotel one morning after breakfast, we ran into a pack of gondoliers standing near these boats.
Were they talking about Dante? The puttanata of the cruise ship traffic about to come into town in springtime? The low water levels? The politics of the day? No. Like many men in the world would have been, they were talking about the breasts of the woman doing up the window display in the window of the Hugo Boss store (mercifully not shown in photo).
But all is forgiven when you turn the corner into the Piazza San Marco. Views like this tend to clear the mind. I like it best at night, however, when there are few tourists. If you are at all claustrophobic, don’t go in May!
Like most visitors to Venice, I like getting lost best. Gianni likes to go “old school” and leave the GPS behind in favour of a paper map. This photo is overexposed as I was still struggling with a setting on my camera!
Nice, empty street. Just the way we like them. The thing in the front is a well, or pozzo:
Older lady being transported in a water taxi. What I really love is people going about their business.
Now here are the angles of Venice that I love:
Would you also love to have a mermaid as your door knocker?
I think I’d rather like being a gondolier, for a while, especially at dusk:
I’m most intrigued by the motor boats gliding along on their daily business, with unidentified destinations:
There’s a pleasant mystery to Venice, and it is possible to get a little bit lost. Lost is good. Except when it is time for dinner, or lunch.
The guy in one of those photos actually travelled Christopher Columbus’s trajectory in that crappy little boat. A Venetian, of course!
One day we visited the Naval Museum, which was very interesting, even though most of it was closed for renovations. I bought a great Jan Morris book and then decided that I was really hungry. Gianni never objects to eating, so we found ourselves at a nice place for lunch.
Courtyard to look out into, check!
Gianni, hungry. Check!
Pasta, of course. Handmade gnochetti with fresh anchovies, dill and pine nuts. Mmm… Pinot grigio, of course.
A little frittura with polenta never killed anyone. That I know of…Although at this time of year the calamari are likely frozen. Still, not bad.
Around the corner from the restaurant I found this, which is the best graffiti ever, except for the fact that someone has rubbed out the “a.” (Gioia is, obviously, “Joy!”)
I also exclaimed that I liked the pottery in this window, until I looked a bit more closely. Don’t look too closely if you are under 18:
I found the door of my future home, and great doorbells (as always):
I discovered that there were once female regattas on the Grand Canal (terrible photo and artist not recorded, sorry!):
Regatta Delle Donne
And just in case I had been feeling homesick, I ended up at a skating rink the Piazza San Polo. Don’t ask me why!
Gianni wanted me to take a skate, like an exotic animal in a circus pen, but instead I opted for some vin brulé from one of the stalls on the left (mulled wine).
Ah, Venice. I do love you, and will hopefully see you in springtime.
I made an excellent discovery for my SWAP yesterday. Back with some sewing and knitting soon.
Warning: This is yet another post in which I think about sewing, rather than present actual sewing. But really – I swear – I am on the cusp.
“From Sea to Sea”
This is Canada’s national motto. Many would like to change it to A mari ad mare ad mare (from sea to sea to sea), to reflect the fact that we have coastlines on the west and east and to the north, i.e. the Arctic. I’ll bet you didn’t know that it comes from the Latin Vulgate translation of Psalm 72:8 in the Bible!
Et dominabitur a mari usque ad mare, et a flumine usque ad terminos terrae
And he shall also have dominion from the sea to the sea and from the river unto the ends of the earth.
Its first known use as a Canadian motto was by George Munro Grant, great-grandfather of a former Liberal Party leader and secretary to Sir Sandford Fleming, and also Presbyterian minister, in his sermons. His great-grandson suggests that it was used as a unifying phrase in the time of national railroad building, although its first official use was on the head of the mace of the Legislative Assembly of Saskatchewan, in 1906 (at least according to Wikipedia). This is weird, frankly, because Saskatchewan is a prairie province of Canada that is entirely landlocked (no seas anywhere to be found, although there are lakes). The phrase was later added to the Canadian coat of arms, when it was redesigned in 1921.
The good news? The other contender for the coat of arms at the time was “In memoriam in spem” (in memory, in hope), which is entirely understandable given the time period and the fact that Canada lost a significant share of its young men to WWI, as did many countries, but seems more resigned and less youthful in my opinion. A young country requires a youthful motto.
The salmon sketch in the photo above was inspired by a wonderful lithograph that I was pointed to by a kind reader, Dagmar. Dagmar left me a generous and inspiring comment on my last post that is helping me to get over my nervousness about getting started on this personal mission. Anything I do will be my original interpretation of the things that mean home for me, whether or not they are new ideas. Now I feel excited rather than overwhelmed. Wise words, Dagmar! Thanks!
The Leaping Salmon lithograph by Pierre Jacques Smit, 1896, is found within this article on how climate change is threatening Canada’s food heritage, including salmon and maple syrup! Nooo… (I have maple syrup running through my veins. I’ve even converted Gianni to the magic of its special properties.)
Original plan, that is morphing into something slightly different now
Why am I writing this trivia? Because I was looking at my SWAP plans again last night and I realized that everything about this is about water. I have trout. I have icebergs. I have blues and the greys of Arctic mist. I’m not from a sea coast. I grew up in the middle of the country, but I spent all of my childhood on the shores of great inland lakes: Lake Ontario, Lake Superior and the large bay, Georgian Bay, which is basically an additional great lake (attached to Lake Huron and bleeding into Lake Superior. The knee socks in my original plan are inspired by a photo of a cabin in Labrador, on the Atlantic Coast of Canada. The great lakes are, appropriately, the big blob of blue under the word Ottawa on the map below. The big lake under the word “Winnipeg” is Lake Superior, which is my favourite of the great lakes. (Do note that we share Lake Erie, Lake Ontario, Lake Huron and Lake Superior with the United States, although Georgian Bay (right under the word “Ottawa”) is all ours!
Anyhow, this is all really an aside. I’m ready to sew. Yeah, baby. I’ve got my thread. I’ve got my embroidery floss. I’ve got my underlinings, interfacings and zippers. For knitting, I’ve got yarn. Goodness knows that I have dominion over a larger stash of fabric than I ever imagined I would. (Gianni’s new favourite word is “swathe.” I could swathe my living room, my bedroom and my entire person in Italian wool and would still have some left over.)
Yes, my sewing really does look this chaotic usually and always. I keep my floors clean; don’t worry.
Hmm…what shirting temptation will lure me in…
And I just. can’t. wait. to make the “Mountie does Valentino” suit.
Hmmm…cashmere….Trousers?
Grey suiting with fine orange/red check. Gift from Gianni’s sister. That’s my red socked foot in the corner.
And it turns out that I have more than enough embroidery floss for my fish. I bought these last year but didn’t manage to fit the embroidery into SWAP. Not this year! I am armed and ready. I haven’t done embroidery since I was a teenager. Whee!
Fish motifs for my stranded knitted vest are in progress. I saw the canoe motifs I sketched out above on a stitch charting website, so that is someone else’s work (someone called Flora M). The fish I adapted from my drawings and some cross-stitch motifs I saw on Pinterest that I thought might be helpful. Since this isn’t intarsia knitting I really can’t go for a “painted” look for these fish, but rather need something stylized, as Judith suggested the other evening. I think I also might have to use gradations of colour in the fish, while maintaining two colours per row as in standard fairisle, to get the look I want. Fun, no?
I’ll be back when I next come up for air. I’m THIS excited to get started on the making:
Friends cut out of photo at the pizzeria last evening, to protect the innocent.
Updated following Dagmar’s comment, to include Gordon Lightfoot’s Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, about a shipwreck on Lake Superior, in which the entire crew was lost:
One of my favourite parts of coming home is when I can watch the over-sized plane on its trajectory across the eastern part of the country. Let’s crush Ottawa (capital city, for the uninitiated), shall we!
Warning: Long and rambling post.
Incidentally, if you’ve ever wondered where Winnipeg is, now you know! It’s smack dab in the middle of the continent. It’s in the province (Manitoba) that is bordered by North Dakota and Minnesota. I have a special place in my heart for Winnipeg. I have never lived there, but I swear that every person I have ever known from Winnipeg has been funny and interesting. I think there must be something in the water. I have been there twice: once in June, in the height of bug season (mosquitoes and black flies, oh my!) and a second time in January or February. That second time I was living in Vancouver and had to travel to Winnipeg for meetings with a colleague. Said colleague had only ever lived in Vancouver and so was deathly afraid of the -40 C weather we encountered in Winnipeg. She made me take a taxi with her from the hotel to the conference centre across the street from the hotel. (There is a reason why Winnipeg is sometimes affectionately referred to as “Winterpeg.”)
Extra trivia: Did you know that a number of years back Hollywood came to Winnipeg and basically cleared out all sorts of stock of vintage clothing, as apparently there was an excellent hoard there (of dead stock I think in part, though am not sure)? I read this somewhere at the time, but correct me, Sox (a lovely blog friend from Winnipeg), if I’m wrong about this. This would be something worth researching, as the economic history of Winnipeg as a kind of crossroads between west and east is very interesting.
January involves a big shift for me. The holidays are a dream, full of feasting and travel. January has an entirely different tone: of industry and mental and physical concentration. I was walking around the office yesterday with a sing song in my step, thinking, “I love my job!” And at home: “I love my home!” And outside, my snowpant legs swishing together and my mascara running down my face with my hoary breath wafting up to my eyes, fogging my sunglasses from under my scarf and under my hood, as I walked to work in -21 C (-30 C with the wind chill) : “Man, I love snow! This is fun!”
I’m not really great at long vacations, to tell the truth. The last time I took a two-month leave to go to Italy, I enjoyed myself immensely, and I was studying, but after about six weeks I was itching to be “truly productive” again. I wonder if that’s just the workaholism my mother ingrained in me. My mother never stops moving. She is the anti-holiday. My mother is the only person I know who predictably returns home a day or two early from holiday, like clockwork, under guise of some excuse such as “the garden needs me.”
My last morning in Florence I spent some time watching the light play on a wall.
I miss Gianni very much, so I sort of feel guilty for liking my life so much, and needing to be industrious. At the same time, I am very good at just staring out the window, thinking, so the “dolce far niente” (sweet do nothing) doesn’t completely elude me. I have a plan to take at least a five- to six-week unpaid leave this year, which was tentatively approved last year, which also frees up my paid vacation time for other periods. It is clear though that I will need to take a course while in Florence for a longer period of time, or I will go a little bit crazy. I may have found a school for sewing and tailoring study. My heart also wants to study drawing again, at one of the older academies. I always feel happiest when I am doing something detailed with my hands. How pleasurable to think of having dedicated time to do both (although the thought of not working kind of terrorizes me – thanks, mom!).
I am sure you are tired of my endless plans, but perhaps given the above, you can trust that I will actually execute my SWAP plans, as wandering as they are. When I was leaving Zurich for Montreal the other day*, my plane was delayed on the tarmac, so I pulled out my little sketchpad and started working out my rejigged SWAP plan. It is still rather rough, but provides a starting point. Things will undoubtedly change as I get working on the plan, as the success or failure of each item will make clear what I need to do next.
*Incidentally, there was a guy harassing me at the airport in Zurich, so I was exchanging funny glances with a pleasant-looking older woman on the same flight. She was one of those older women I find fascinating, as she had natural grey hair but a youthful and still classy style. She was wearing an attractive sweater in black with cream dots, a skirt that landed above the knee in a soft beige fabric, dark tights and really nice short boots. Her hair was in a chic bob. When we got to Montreal and were stuck in customs she asked me if I was also going to Winnipeg!!
Tentative, new SWAP 2017 plan. It’s going to change, so don’t look too closely! The vest is also going to have much more design on it, i.e., will be some sort of fairisle/stranded knitting. The Valentino suit in the middle is the red one. The jacket below it may not be exactly the one I will make, which will either be based on a YSL pattern or a Burda Vintage one, with one of the two jackets in velvet. I still feel as though there is something missing.
The Canada at 150 theme is very important to me, because it provides a significant challenge. A kind reader, Dagmar, pointed out that the Globe and Mail has started a series on Canadian design which I shall follow each Saturday. Thanks, Dagmar! I don’t want to copy any iconic design for this SWAP directly, but context is essential. I’ll share interesting bits as I go along. The first piece was on Cowichan sweaters knitted by the Coast Salish people, some of the history of which I actually didn’t know. Apparently there is more information in the Saturday print edition, which I don’t yet have in my hands (though my mom has saved me a copy).
I’ve been thinking a lot in the last six months about how one goes about inventing something new. It’s been bothering me for a while and I’ve been thinking that there must be a way that I can create something that reflects what I see and that isn’t exclusively derivative of someone else’s tradition. Design is really difficult though. It really is. If you don’t believe me, give it a try!
For inspiration re. the knitted vest, I realized that I have had a copy of Alice Starmore’s Charts for Color Knitting for many years. I don’t think I’ll be using any of the charts, but the tone of the book is very encouraging. She made a career out of putting her inspiration from nature into beautifully-coloured stranded knitting designs (see, e.g., the Oregon cardigan design), often using patterns from color knitting originating in different European cultures. It’s an interesting book. What is most lovely is that she encourages the reader to use her own inspiration and give colour designing a try.
In the context of Canadian knitting, I also found a line on this page thought-provoking:
In the sphere of traditional knitting, it is a large body of patterns – used boldly and consistently – that confers regional or national identity.
Other than the Cowichan tradition, which took European-style circular knitting and then went off in its own direction with traditional Coast Salish motifs, I am not aware of any Canadian regional or “national” knitting. Most of what I know of is closely derivative of the Scottish and English traditions. I have seen photos of the Hutterites on the prairies knitting, but not their actual output close up. From the photos I have seen it looks like standard European circular knitting with double-pointed needles, in plain yarns:
Hutterite girls knitting, Alberta, 1934. Glenbow Archives, Calgary, AB.
Any thoughts on this, my fellow Canucks? I know there is at least one book out there on the history of Canadian knitting, which I skimmed at the library once. It didn’t seem poor, per se, but it is a bit dated and probably not complete. Do chime in if you have other thoughts. I’m still very excited about my plan to put Lawren Harris icebergs on a sweater, which I think will be an interesting twist. I also still don’t know how I’m going to do this, but this and the “fish” vest are my two core knitting projects for this SWAP. I would like to create an Emily Carr sweater, in addition, if I have the time, but I’m trying to be realistic.
Margaret Howell trouser inspiration for SWAP pants.
This is getting quite long, unfortunately, so I’ll wrap up as quickly as I can. I am thinking of including two pairs of pants in the collection, deriving from the same pattern. For the first pair, my inspiration is this pair of trousers seen in the window of the Margaret Howell store in Florence. I’m a fan of Margaret Howell’s menswear for women and quality materials aesthetic, but I really can’t understand how any pair of cotton pants can be worth paying 500 + Euro for, unless they are handmade (which I don’t think they are). I don’t know anything about Margaret Howell’s production, so I suppose I shouldn’t comment. There is an Italian designer (Brunello Cuccinelli) who sells his clothing at extraordinarily high prices (I’m talking 3000 Euro plus for a simple pullover), under the justification that he has provided an Italian community with high-paying jobs and benefits and services, and brought an entire town back to life, based on observations he made about his father’s life, who was a low-income manual labourer. (Gianni has recounted the details to me of a documentary he saw recently.) Cuccinelli also focuses all of his production in Italy, hiring artisans and using the highest-quality materials available (he’s dubbed the “cashmere king” for good reason). These attempts at creating new/old models of design and production are extremely interesting. There is a series of mission statements related to values and sustainable production on his site. This GQ article provides much more detail, if you are interested. In any case, I don’t think the Margaret Howell pants would be very difficult to riff on for my SWAP, and pants are truly the one piece of clothing (other than sweaters) that I wear most often.
One thing I still haven’t resolved is where my embroidery is going to go. The embroidery idea is an important part of my inspiration for this project, but I am not sold any longer on putting it on a blouse. I’ve been thinking that my fish (trout) drawings deserve to be embroidered on something, as they are going to have to be rendered more simply in the stranded knit vest, but I’m not sure on what. Could you see the Fabiani dress with a bit of local colour, or would that be an offensive use of Italian design (I’m sorely tempted)?
OK, that’s it. You may see quite a few posts from me in the next little while, as I may organize my thoughts around some of my Italian trip photos. You might have noticed that I don’t blog with a plan, or even consistent logic. I’d like to be an organized, linear thinker, but I’ve given up on morphing myself into something that I am not!
Detail of Ghirlandaio’s Last Supper, which I said goodbye to yesterday (for this time).
I won’t have time to start sewing until next weekend, but now that Christmas vacation has come to a close and I will be returning to work tomorrow (I just flew back), I am starting to think about how to tackle this massive but also wonderful project. I probably won’t be back in Italy until April or May, depending on how my leave shakes out, and Gianni will likely be limited by his sister’s limited ability to help with his mother between now and then, so boo hoo we likely won’t see each other until that time. But you never know I suppose. In any case, my wonderful SWAP plans will provide a gentle distraction and pleasant occupation.
My plans looked like this before I left:
All good plans are amenable to adjustment…sort of…
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to finish sewing up the grey Valentino suit skirt I started in December, so it won’t be eligible for SWAP. A less honest person I suppose would have finished it this weekend and said it was completed before Dec 26 (it was started after November 5, as per the rules), but I do pride myself on being scrupulously honest, even if to my detriment…
This little glitch throws a small wrench in the works as the skirt was going to be one of my duplicate patterns. The eight pattern rule is really going to be my nemesis here. I’ll figure it out though and in the limit I can always make duplicate trousers, which are something I always get extensive wear out of. I do also like planning and changing things up, so this affords another opportunity. Always thinking on the bright side!
Do remind me next year when I start knitting Christmas gifts on two and three mm needles in December that I am an idiot. I spent most of my holiday finishing the shawl for Gianni’s mother, which we finally washed and blocked on Epiphany. The photos are terrible as it was late at night in a dark room, but here is the proof:
This is Kea by Amy van de Laar. I changed up the lace a bit to make it a bit tighter, to keep the shawl’s holes to a minimum.
It looks like a muddy brown in the photos but actually it is a nice grey colour with a touch of brown. Gianni’s sister chose the colour.
Speaking of brown though, an evil person got ahold of my credit card and bought me some fabric when I was there. In my defence, however, I only spent about a hundred Euro in total (although three beautiful pieces were added on by G and another stunner by his sister). The sales are great right now. The photos unfortunately do not show the quality and softness of these wool cashmere and wool silks. I know that some of these colours are not really my colours, although everything is suffused with grey, which does work. I have decided to dispense with colour rules to the extent that my heart tells me otherwise. In fact my favourite of all of these pieces is the grey and orange check! It’s the most amazing lightweight wool silk that will make an outstanding lumber lady shirt. I am kind of hoping I can figure out a way to tie it into my SWAP.
All so soft, but poor light so not showing well.
There was fantastic light in Venice, however…
It was, as predicted, very damp and cold, but my underlayers of wool and other gear held me together. Heck, I am a Canuck through and through so it would be sad if a little bit of cold deterred me from having fun. Fashion was thrown out the window!
At the Fondazione Querini Stampali.
Hope you’ve been well and your stitching cruising along nicely. See you soon!
Growing up we always made a fondue and played Scrabble, watched black and white movies on New Year’s Eve, so I have never understood the desire to make a ruckus. In Florence the streets erupt with young people setting off fireworks randomly and breaking bottles. Someone explained to me that part of it may be that many young people in Italy can’t afford their own apartments and so wandering the streets is a way to let off steam. Maybe. Still it is disquieting to be inside hearing firecrackers going off everywhere. When we walk home from Gianni’s mother’s the streets are littered with broken glass and bits of spent firecrackers. I suppose it is too cold in Canada at New Year’s to make a mess outside!
The scene at the Duomo at 1:30 am:
The next day, everything was perfect and tranquil again, as if nothing had ever happened.
As usual, of course, I am getting ahead of myself. Please excuse the jumpy writing as I am writing on my phone.
The 31st started out like this:
Even when it is 11 C, you can find someone wearing fur.
There was a lunch of pasta, of course:
Then we spotted a flock of storni, which was probably my favourite part of the day before the eating commenced again.
There was also tea:
And weather watching, to prepare for our trip to Venice. Do military weatherman in your country wear such precisely fitted suits? I wonder if he borrowed a friend’s.
Seriously, there is no photoshop going on here. I took that directly from the television.
I always seem to forget to mention the obligatory stop at the bar for a coffee.
Among the many things that Italians do better than we do is coffee of course.
Honestly, I am not really sure what to say about a sausage tree though. 🙂
And boy was there fur to be seen on New Year’s day.
I must have a thing for embroidered roses as I liked this understated outfit with the flat boots (embroidery on the jeans). Most Florentine women wear flat boots or shoes when out and about so there is lots of selection in the stores.
There are soldiers guarding the major piazze..err talking up ragazze. (I am just joking. I find the Italians I know to be more suspicious of others in general (and less naive perhaps) than the average Canadian, so I generally feel safe here. I suppose they have more experience dealing with threats.)
A little bit later on on our walk we revisited that photo of the Partigiani during WWII, posted on the via della Chiesa.
The bomb squad (including dogs) drove by, and the Christmas tree atop the Piazzale Michelangelo was slightly visible. (And the world was as it has always been, except perhaps with less Arctic ice than one would wish for. )
As for me, I ended up in my perpetual duel with the beloved but equally dreaded panettone…I am not going to tell you who won.
