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So close you can smell the beans

Black Coffee Tunic: the fans want to know. What happened to it? Where is it? Are the rumours about it and Anthony Bourdain true?

The truth is much less exciting than the tabloids would have us believe, but ultimately more satisfying. Black Coffee Tunic is very very close to being done, as in finished, as in getting about on my fine person. I’ve finished the body and tried it on: it fits like a beautiful cabled dream. Heavy and warm and sexy, and I’ve bought some black tights specially to wear with it. Because my clothes sense was forged during the mid-80s, where every piece of clothing I owned was either tights, stirrup pants or had pompoms on it, I have, until now, avoided the tights-wearing thing everyone seems to be doing. But Black Coffee is long enough to be almost a dress, so I’m willing to give it a go. Not promising anything.

Anyway, I’ve picked up the stitches around the neckline and have commenced the collar. You pick up 104 sts, work in 1×1 rib for an inch, then KfB into every stitch to double the number of stitches and then knit until the collar measures from here to the FREAKING SUN. Nine inches? Bloody hell.

Subtle lamington effect created using a delicate merino/cattledog blend.

Tell you what, Coffee Tunic: I’ll knit until you look right and have a collar that works, and then I’m stopping. I promise not to sell you short, but I’m not making a collar longer than my femur just cos the pattern says so, okay? Libertyknittin’, that’s what we’re about here. I also think you deserve some stitches picked up around your armholes to tidy up those edges.

Christ, I hope I finish this soon: conversations with in-progress knitwear cannot be a sign of a healthy mind.

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