This has been an awesome week for socks. Sucky for almost everything else, but wicked great for my new Feta Cheese socks. After only a week of obsessing I’m through BOTH socks up to the patterned toes, which have me a bit stymied. Still – most of two socks in a week? It’s like I sneezed and there they were!
The “Greek Socks” pattern in Nancy Bush’s Folk Socks, upon which this pair is based, is among the weirdest looking sock patterns I’ve spotted in my life. There’s a little interest in the lacy cuff, but then nothing but white stockinette until you’re halfway through the heel flap, then when you’re falling asleep from the never-ending knit stitches, BAM!
Four new colors smack you in the face with a bunch of fantastically weird hybrid intarsia/fair-isle.
Oh, and because this little heel pattern isn’t complicated or weird enough, you come back later to duplicate stitch on more colorful madness.
(This actually makes sense – if one were to do this whole pattern with fair isle, nearly the whole thing would be done holding three colors at once. A few tweaked knitters might be showing up at Nancy’s door if she instructed this, so it may have been a safety precaution.) (Also, at the time of this photo, I had managed to do the duplicate stitch pattern wrong. I fixed it, but I can’t actually take pictures fast enough to keep up with the speed at which these are being manufactured. I’m waiting for them to catch on fire, either from the friction on my needles or just for God to keep me from getting cocky.)
The colorful design on the heel flap is the most illogical thing I’ve ever seen. What’s it supposed to be? Ancient Greek fertility symbols? A rabid praying mantis dance? I can’t blame Nancy for this; she reconstructed the pattern from a pair of socks in a Toronto museum. But they look so bizarre that I felt pretty free to take the original colors – primaries (not me) and replace them with something meaningful in an attempt to make some kind of interpretation of the pattern (and to use my scraps of sock yarn so I didn’t have to buy a bunch of yarn when I only need about three yards of each color).
Thus – Feta Cheese. My favorite thing about Greek food, of which I am an undying fan, is that it includes a whole lot of Feta. Feta is, to date, the best ingredient yet discovered that can be sprinkled on salads to trick me into eating leavwa. So the white-dominated sock is devoted to feta, with the heel as the demoted leafy base of a Greek salad. The almost-black could be kalamata olives, the pink… cranberries, or something?
I obliviously named these socks Feta Cheese in my last post, stubbornly ignoring the niggling sense I had that the name might be a little weird. Only today as I start on more funky colorwork for the toes do I realize why…