On the Third WIP of Knitmas...

1945 Handknit Bobby Socks

My WIP pile brought to me,

Three pairs of two needle handknit socks.......

I do have a confession to make though, they didn't need much finishing.

I've been knitting these two needle wonders for my feet for over a decade, and this pattern is my trusty sidekick for whipping up a quick pair. I found it in a 1945 edition of The Australian Women's Weekly Knitting Book for Adults. In true wartime ration style, if I keep the ribbing as skimpy as a pig's tail, I can crank out a pair with just under 60 grams of fingering (4ply) sock yarn on 2.75mm needles (Old UK 12/ Modern US 2). A full 100-gram (3.5 ounce) ball will leave you with enough yarn leftovers to make a second pair that's as stylishly two-tone as a zebra at a disco (which is exactly how the original pattern strutted its stuff).

Please don't judge me. These are some of the sad sorry handknit socks that have been in rotation since around 2015 or so. I spend so much time knitting socks for everyone else, I forget to make my own. I don't think I can save these now. Maybe it's time for these to finally retire to the dust cloth bag.

Honestly, I have zero recollection of knitting these three pairs. It's like they magically appeared in my WIP pile. But I do remember at the start of last summer, when I usually give all my woolies a good wash and send them on hiatus for the season, noticing that my sock lineup was looking a bit... tired. Some of these socks are old enough to start high school, and a few pairs have been patched up so often that I'm now darning the darns!

My best guess? I must have knitted these on autopilot with random leftover yarn from my stash, probably while jet-setting for work or collapsing like a human pretzel in front of the TV after a long day. Most likely, I was rewatching episodes of Marple or some old-school noir or sci-fi or maybe a sci-fi noir — is that even a genre?I should definitely fact-check that (honestly, these rabbit holes are the reason it takes me forever to get these posts out to you all—my neurospicy brain is always cranked up to maximum distraction spice level!).

Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, I was a monogamous knitter. Okay, that's also a fib. But I did tend to stitch things up faster than a caffeinated squirrel as soon as the knitting was done. There's something incredibly satisfying about perfectly matching a seam or getting those stripes to line up just right in a sweater or sock. Not sure where that magical feeling disappeared to in recent years, but the evidence clearly shows I've misplaced it somewhere along the way.

Your Honour, may I introduce exhibit A: three pairs of hand-knitted socks, fresh off the needles and ready to rock—well, almost, if you don't count the missing seams.

I attempted a daring mission of fieldwork right before Christmas, dragging my stitching project along with high hopes of sneaking in some quiet sewing time in my designated sleeping nook. But, lo and behold, each day left me more exhausted than a cat in a dog park after scratching round in abandoned paddocks for archaeological relics. My eyes were too tired for anything that required focus and much prefered viewing the inside of my eyelids. I did manage to tinker a bit with a snazzy 1930s piece, but that tale is reserved for another episode!

The offenders Your Honour, 3 pairs of socks knit from random stash yarn - and the enabling pattern book. The offending needles appear to have absconded custody.

Somehow, I managed to stitch these up during that bizarre twilight zone between Christmas and New Year's. You know, that time when you can't remember what day it is, question if you'll ever finish digesting the mountain of food you devoured, and wonder why the leftovers still seem to be multiplying like rabbits!

I do occasionally pop a few pairs in the online store and knit for in-person commissions, but feel free to give them a go yourself. I've included a scan of the original pattern below. I'm not a particularly fast knitter, but can usually knock out a pair (the knitting part anyway) in a week of casual evening TV watching.

These are knitted from the sole up, so you can check your sizing fairly easily before having to unravel too much and start again. I have a fairly standard ladies size 6.5- 7 (AU) foot and use a 2.75mm (Old UK 12/ Modern US 2). I'm a tight knitter, but these are quite stretchy so will fit larger (8-9 AU) if needed.

For a size smaller (5-6 AU) go down to a 2.5 or 2.25mm (Old UK 13/ Modern US 1.5 or 1) needle or larger (10 AU) up to 3mm (Old UK 1/Modern US 2.5).

I wouldn't go any larger than that as I think the fabric would be too open and loose for anything long wearing. I don't bother using double pointed needles or switching to knitting in the round for the rib cuff, the seam gets hidden in the rib.

Feel free to knit your own : Screenshot on your phone or tablet or right click and save as to save a copy of the pattern to your computer.

A little hint: For those of you worried about the comfort level seamed socks, the seam underfoot will soften really quickly with wear and washing to the point where you won't even know it's there, but if it bothers you take the time to do a true flat seam. There's lots of tutorials online - I may even do one myself one day- I'll come back and let you know if I do.

Happy Knitmas,

Megs