Stepping Stone Socks
"Stepping Stones" by Clara Parkes. Source: The Knitter's Book of Socks, borrowed from SF public library.
This is a straightforward top-down design, done one sock at a time. Flap-and-gusset heel, wedge toe, and decorative broken ribbing variations on leg and instep. It is aimed at beginners (hence its name) and intended for use with worsted-weight yarn (thicker than what's typically used for socks).
I used Cascade Heritage, held double to reach desired thickness. This is a very typical sock yarn, composed of 75% superwash Merino wool blended with 25% nylon for strength. It is available in many bright solid colors; I used Silver Grey, Cerulean, Marine, and Deep Ocean in various combinations, switching one strand at a time whenever I got bored. The yarn is worsted spun, NOT to be confused with worsted weight.
Knitted in the round on four US 2 (2.75mm) aluminum DPNs (double-pointed needles)
Long-tail cast-on
Heel flaps are worked back and forth with two strands. I used a contrast color for fun. One color was held in each hand. The knit (outside-facing) rows went fine, but the purled (inside-facing) rows were a struggle as I am not used to purling with yarn held in the left hand. For the first heel and a half, instead of the expected checkerboard effect, I got sort of jagged horizontal stripes instead. I believe this was due to inconsistent color dominance between rows; when I switched from always holding gray in the left hand, to holding it in the left hand on knit rows and the right hand on purl rows, the checkerboard appeared.
My main goal with this project was to complete something quickly without overthinking. I tend to overcomplicate my projects to a point where they become too exhausting to complete, and now and then I need something very different to recalibrate. These socks knitted up quickly with a satisfying result. I haven't worn them for real yet: with warm weather and work from home, who needs shoes? Or socks? I hope to update later with info on how these wear.
For comparison, the last time I knit full-size socks was a year ago, toe-up two-at-a-time from my hand-spun yarn. Very thick, very warm, and if it weren't for the ribbing up the leg they would be able to stand up on their own. Ideally pretty durable thanks to the mix of Shetland/Gotland wools, but realistically not: this was my first handspun project, and looking back on it the singles were not twisted tightly enough. No holes yet, but thanks to San Francisco weather I hardly ever wear them: not a fair test.
Merino is a very popular fiber for socks, but I have strong reason to suspect it is an inappropriate choice. It is popular largely because it is very fine and very soft. These are not good qualities in a sock, which experiences the hardest abrasive wear of any knitted garment! Once you go with Merino as a base, a substantial portion of nylon helps compensate for these issues. When the wool wears out, the skeleton of nylon should remain for a while, making it easy to darn in duplicate stitch. Nylon also has the virtue of accepting the same acid dyes as wool does, so it blends invisibly.
While knitting these socks, I kept muttering to myself, "We live in a society." My culture has certain defaults, and now and then it is interesting to follow them and see where I end up, as I did with these socks. Even defaults that seem silly can sometimes prove to have good reason behind them.
The pattern recommends 10% negative ease in the length of the foot, on the grounds that this improves durability. I followed that, and these socks feel very tight at the toe. I also don't understand how being stretched while in use can possibly extend, rather than reduce, lifespan. (Any extra material will obviously reduce lifespan, as it will bunch up and be exposed to additional wear. Where I get confused is the step from zero ease to negative.) However, superwash fabrics have a reputation for growing over time, so if the tightness is truly a problem it may be a self-correcting one.
Background is a scarf I wove last year from a wool/rayon blend that I dyed with wild mushrooms (Gymnopilus ventricosus). It deserves its own post, but not today.
