Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
If you follow me on Instagram or Facebook, then you have likely seen the progress I made on my Aran sweater while studying abroad in Ireland.
The first step to making the sweater was finding a pattern I liked. I have heard rumors about Aran sweaters being used as a way to identify a specific clan or lost sailors, that each of the stitches mean something specific, and others say that is all B.S. So before I picked a pattern I wanted to make sure I had educated myself on the Aran sweater so that I was not just another American tourist who is there to appropriate Irish culture. To learn a bit more about the history of Aran sweaters I read Irish Aran: History, Tradition, and Fashion by Vawn Corrigan. Among other things I learned that Ireland’s textile economy largely depends upon sweater exports to the U.S. and more recently Japan. It is a fascinating read to learn about how business men and women found and filled an integral role in the market: families full of skilled knitters needed an extra income, and Irish Americans wanted something to connect them to their roots. You might even say it’s an economic wolf in sheep's clothing. That said, even though I knew my desire to have a sweater meant I had succumbed to the carefully curated Irish tourism trap, this did not deter my desire to knit one.
As far as the symbolism of cables and patterns is concerned, Corrigan notes that there were not necessarily designs used for particular families, rather women would have simply used designs they preferred knitting, and would often copy each other. Over time, the designs have acquired specific meanings.
After my “research” I looked on Etsy and Pinterest to find a pattern specifically for a slightly cropped sweater, or one I could easily crop. Every true Aran sweater has the honeycomb motif in the front center, so that was also an integral part I was looking for. I perused many “celtic cable sweaters” or “celtic inspired sweaters” with cables in the front instead of the honeycomb. And the ones that did have the honeycomb in the front I thought looked ugly. Since the women making the traditional Aran sweaters would have just knit whatever pattern they felt like knitting, I figured I would look at the book of stitches I have and design my own pattern. I had a preliminary idea that I changed a bit once I obtained the yarn. Actually getting the yarn is a saga of its own! You can read about it in my next blog post, “Propper Wool for a Jumper,” which will be coming soon.
