This sweater is old. No one knows exactly how old, but it's been traded between my mother and her brothers and sister for at least five decades. (And by "traded between," I think I actually mean "stolen from" :) It's a sentimentally valuable –– and very warm –– family treasure for our mischievous group.
Originally borrowed from a friend of the family, we believe the sweater's province lies in Oslo. The sweater's tag identifies the fibers as "moth proof" 100% virgin wool, and the brand as Husfliden (which translates to "Handicrafts"). It also notes the sweater was handknitted in Norway. My mom did some investigative work and found this 1996 Chicago Tribune article that features the Husfliden, "a handcraft organization founded 104 years ago" –– 128 years ago now –– that "contracts 150 knitters throughout Norway to make the sweaters, caps, mittens and thigh-high stockings sold at its four shops in Oslo." In fact, it looks like Husfliden is still in operation! I don't know if I have any Norwegian readers, but if you know anything about the organization's history or arc, I'd love to hear from you.
Back to the sweater (referred to in my family by the name of the original owner, so storied is its reputation). The thoughtful construction is evident, but this beautiful sweater's age is starting to show. The old fibers are simply breaking, leaving unraveling holes. My mother asked me to do what I could to repair one of the cuffs that had been especially damaged by time.
I started by developing a plan. I'd put in a lifeline before the damage begins, rip back to the lifeline, and then knit in a rib to restore the cuff.
Next I walked to WEBS, both to trawl their inventory for a close-matching yarn and to discuss my plans with the smart knitters who work there. I have to admit, it was very validating when one of the associates affirmed my plan by saying, "That's exactly what I'd do." I had a very proud (and somewhat self-satisfied) smile behind my mask. It was such fun to share the project with them. They passed the sweater around, bending over the cuff and discussing yarn weight, needle size. I think they enjoyed the intersection of knitting and history as much as I do! We felt like fiber archaeologists.
Ultimately they recommended Cascade 220 Sport, a DK/sport weight, and we matched the sweater's color most closely to 4002 Jet. You'll see it's not a perfect match, but I think that unless you're looking for it, it's hard to tell.
I put in two lifelines (using this tutorial as a guide) and carefully ripped the damaged yarn back.
Then I transferred the lifeline stitches to my needles. After having worked a few swatches with the new yarn using different size needles, I opted to go with US 2 double-pointed needles, with a very relaxed tension. (I think 3's would've been perfect, but I don't happen to have any.)
As soon as I picked up those live stitches, it was like I was sitting next to the person who'd made it so many years ago. Their work was awake again. It felt like reaching back into history and placing my hand on top of someone else's.
I finished the cuff repair in an evening, and wore the sweater the next day ostensibly to take these pictures but also because it's so warm and delicious. I'm glad I wore it for another reason, however –– I spotted a few more places that needed mending and was able to make quick work of them.
Do you think my mother would blame me if I didn't give it back...?
(Just kidding, Mom.)
