And now for a confession: I'm a late arrival to the sock knitting party.
For the longest time, the world of socks was a complete mystery to me. I was focused on knitting that covers other body parts, and it seemed to me that there were SO many designers making socks exclusively (and brilliantly) that the world didn't need me to get interested in them.
Which is, of course, exactly when somebody asked me to design socks. No grocery-needing knitwear designer can afford to limit the body parts they cover with yarn, so of course I agreed, and started cracking books. The learning curve was steep, but not insurmountable. I'm proud of the socks I've designed, and I've enjoyed sock-knitting as a palate cleansing activity that fits nicely in between larger projects.
But last week, something weird happened. I figured out how to make socks from the toe up.
I know. It's like reporting the huge news flash that water is wet. I have made the groundbreaking discovery that the Earth is Round. I'm screaming with glee from the rooftops that socks can be made in the completely opposite direction from what I've done before, while the knitters below smile indulgently, and keep on walking. Everybody else already knows this, but I am so excited to have finally figured it out.
And I made these!
Of course, when you try to take pictures of your own feet wearing new socks (toe-up or otherwise), the dog will think you have lost your mind and come over to offer an opinion:
I tried to explain it to him: "But they're TOE-UP!" I said. Bailey remained unmoved.
Some people's pets are just too hard to impress.
"Dogwood" toe-up socks, with proper gussets and heel flaps. Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks That Rock Lightweight, in a Rare Gems colorway. Click HERE for the pattern, to share my newfound joy.