Knitted hats, sewn hats, hats that look like Pokémon

Hey, a Thursday post! I'm doing this for two reasons: one, this is a not-particularly-in-depth post illustrated with photos from my phone that I want to have here but doesn't really merit being my one weekly post, and two, I am having severe difficulty getting my sewjo back after Christmas. I've switched my machine on exactly once in the last four weeks, and I don't think I like the dress I started making. I'm hoping that getting through my backlog of posts and spending a bit more time actively thinking about sewing will get my brain back into gear. At this rate most of my winter plan will go unfinished, and I really don't want that. So: hats!

About this time last year, Patrick and I decided we were going to learn how to knit. I'd tried once before and not got on very well with it (that was ten years ago, and I discovered shortly before she died that my grandmother still kind of thought I was incompetent because I'd had to call her and get her to talk me through casting off. The fact that I finished my first hat a week before she died and didn't call her to tell her is one of the things that still really nags at me. Gah.)

Anyway, I made a hat and a scarf:

We signed up to an Intro to Knitting class at Sew Over It, and it was terrible. I wish I'd said something, but the problem with being a complete beginner is that you have no way to judge how terrible something is. Patrick and I came out of that class thinking we'd never be able to make anything else ever because we were so bad at casting on, and then a couple of weeks later I watched a five-minute Youtube video and realised it was actually really easy. I have no idea what kind of complicated shit she was trying to get us to do, but it so nearly put me off for good. (As an aside, I feel like Sew Over It classes in general are such a lottery when it comes to teacher quality that I don't think I'd ever go to another unless the only teacher listed was Julie, who is magic.)

Our first hats were more or less write-offs, so I bought us some more wool and we tried again, more successfully this time. Then we decided to knit matching scarves, without looking up how many stitches we should start with, and spent the next several months knitting enormous five-ball blanket things. I actually really enjoyed that; no pattern, no need to count stitches, just sitting next to each other on the sofa and peacefully knitting away. Shame I don't have much use for multiple giant blanket scarves. 

A couple of months ago, Patrick left his hat on the bus (I'm pretty sure I still have mine, but I couldn't tell you where or anything) and bought us a ball of Wool and the Gang super-chunky each, because colours. 

This photo is from Bruges, and it's one of my favourites because if you look at his front eyebrow he's kissing me on the cheek, but if you look at his back eyebrow he's stuck to my face and is quite annoyed about it.

Suffice it to say you won't see a lot of knitting here. So far it's been this and a baby hat each (for other people's babies, let's be clear), and while I like the thought of knitting, mostly because it's portable, I'm just not sure I have the patience. Maybe I'll try and find something else small to have a go at. If anyone has any great beginner knitting patterns, I'm open to suggestions. 

So back to sewing. I made hats for both my father and brother for Christmas this year, and we'll start with the simpler one:

I used the Named Delia beanie pattern for both these hats. I've had it sitting on my computer for a while because they tend to put it on sale for a euro every now and then, but this was my first go at it. It was a pretty straightforward make, the only issue being that the sweater knit I bought probably wasn't quite stretchy enough for the pattern. It fits Dad though, and Mum tells me he's worn it every day since Christmas despite being given three other winter hats on the same day. (Dad has a tendency to lose hats.)

The second hat, mind you:

You may not know what this is. This is a Nosepass hat. Nosepass is my brother's favourite Pokémon purely because of how stupid it is. I don't think Nosepass is anyone else in the world's favourite Pokémon, meaning that when I got a stupid idea and searched Etsy for "Nosepass hat" there were none to be found, excepting one person who would make it to order and charge £70 for it. Which is a fair price, but I didn't have £70 lying around and so decided to make one myself. 

The hat is made of fleece and has a panel inserted in the front, partly for the look of the thing (Nosepass is carved out of rock) and partly because the fleece didn't have enough stretch and I wasn't sure how to size the hat up. The eyes and nose are made of fabric scraps and felt, both glued down and sewn on. It took me FOREVER to work out sizing and scale, and the whole process deepened my respect for competent pattern-makers. The end result is not the most shining example of my work, but James is pleased enough with it to wear it out in public, which is about as much as you can ask when you make someone a Nosepass hat. 

Now to try and persuade myself to get started on my coat. Wish me luck!