The Sweater Vest from Hell

Usually, I'm not the type of knitter that will frog a project. Ever. I consider anything short of a disastrous accident a "design feature," and I have gotten very good at fudging over little oopsies. So I was shocked to find myself not liking something so much that I frogged the whole thing and started over. I think I might have lost my mind.

It's Christmas knitting season, and because I love my family (and am perhaps slightly insane) I decided I should knit something for all my immediate family members. My first mistake was asking what they wanted instead of making everyone a hat. (Why do people always want sweaters? In Texas? I just don't get it.) My Dad, lord love him, did not know (or did not want to say) what he wanted. He doesn't wear hats, scarves, or gloves. He wouldn't use an afghan. I suggested a sweater, and he vetoed that as too hot. Lightbulb moment! How about a nice sweater vest? Perfect. So I go yarn shopping.

I thought I would order something grey and soft, maybe heathered. An understated yarn. I also remembered my budget, so I headed over to Knitpicks. Bingo. They had just added a new yarn, Shamrock, that was a heavy worsted weight (so it works up fairly quickly, my Dad is not a small man), wool, and looked like it had a lovely blue-grey color that would be perfect for him. Out comes the credit card, home comes the yarn. Mistake number two, the yarn is blue. Not blue-grey, blue. Hmmmm. Well, it's still a lovely color, and I think Dad will like it. Now for the pattern.

As I bop on over to Knitty, I'm feeling pretty good. I have dealt with the unexpected and rationalized my way to acceptance, and the first pattern I look at seems like a good fit. No, I'm not gonna tell you which one, I'm pouting and not likely to say anything nice. (Confidential to designer-who-shall-not-be-named: I'm sure most of the mistakes in the pattern are mine, not yours, but my experience has indicated that one of us cannot count. How did you do in math at school?) I cast on and worked. And kept working. And here comes big, honking, mistake number three: the thing looked terrible, but I wouldn't admit it. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt my friends. There's a big pile of it being unraveled stitch by stitch in my living room. The yarn was too busy for the pattern, or the pattern was too busy for the yarn, or the stars were out of alignment, I just don't know. In any case, I continued to knit on this monstrosity while ignoring the gagging sounds of all who looked at it for a week. I had it almost finished. Wanna see a picture?

Yup, that close to done. A few more inches of the front, bind off, and the edging around the neck and arms and I could have put it in the box of done stuff. But I made the mistake (number four, if anyone's counting) of reading a post on my friends list on LJ asking about this yarn (rough as hell if you were wondering), and I answered it. I was asked for a picture, so I took the one above, and while I was downloading it I thought to myself, "that thing is f*cking ugly." I had seen irrefutable proof of the ugly. I was doomed.

I tried for three days to just keep going. I was almost done. I would send it to Texas and see it once a year. I could live with it.

The lies were no longer working. I couldn't knit a stitch.

I really hate this sweater.