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Dear Ann,

There is a spectrum of perfectionism in knitting. I’m at an extreme end of the scale. Once I know about a mistake, I have to fix it, even if it doesn’t really make a difference to the wear or the look of the garment. I do not subscribe to the “trotting horse school,” in which you don’t have to worry about a mistake unless it can be seen from a trotting horse. Or on a trotting horse. It has something to do with horses and trotting. (I sometimes preach the trotting horse theory, but I’m full of it.)

While I was still in the Mint Green phase of my Fort Tryon Shawl (in Jill Draper Makes Stuff’s Esopus fingering weight wool), I noticed a mistake in the increases at one of the corners. Somehow, on one round, I’d made the pair of yarnovers a few stitches too early, and on subsequent rounds I’d kept making them in that spot. So the line of centered increases took a right turn. It looked like the crook of a tree, branching to the right. I thought: no worries, I can fix this. I know how yarnover increases work. I’ll just pull out those stitches one by one, replace the yarnovers with plain knits or purls, and then pull out the plain knits and purls and make yarnovers in their place, and Bob’s your uncle. I did this. It was wonky, but the stitch counts worked out (OK I had to knit two together to make it work out), and I deemed myself satisfied. (I didn’t photograph any of this. Perhaps that was a warning sign.)

Every time I came to that corner, it bugged me. (Of course it did.) I was four garter ridges deep into the next color (a gorgeous peacock blue), and I tried to fix it again, this time better. I kept at it, unpicking down 8 rounds or so on each stitch, and it never really looked better. Although I was on the middle seat of a plane at this point, I calmly (with the lucidity of the truly mad) yanked out the needles and started to rip pack to the green, and then into the green. I wound all the yarn casualties into tidy balls. I put the stitches back on the needles. And here I am.

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I feel kind of foolish. No one was going to notice the wonky fix on that corner but me. But I am who I am. I can fix my knitting mistakes, and I feel compelled to do so. It’s not so bad to have to knit a few hours more. It’s a little sad not to be forging ahead past the peacock blue into the next color. I know that many people wouldn’t have fixed it. Would you? I think it would depend on the day, but I think most people generally would let it go, and be happier for letting it go.

Today I head back home, after a week filled with travel that took me to Providence, Washington and New Orleans. It will be good to sleep in my own bed.

Love,

Kay

119 Comments

  • I feel your pain. But I’d’ve fixed it too.

  • The knitter who I am now would try to fix it. Once fixed, if it still looked wonky, and even if it was only me who perceived the wonk, I would rip back to a good place and have another go at it. I would not be able to let it go. So, Kay, not only did you keep “knitting fidelity” for the week, you were ultimately true to your feelings when the question of “to frog or not to frog?” came up.

    Knit on.

    LoveDiane

  • I would have done exactly what you did, right down to the initial denial. I have ripped the initial garter strip twice because I am not happy with the edges. And, my powers of denial are so great I knit the whole strip each time before I ripped it. The first time I was merrily knitting straight garter and ignored the edges until I couldn’t. The second time I was knitting through the back loop and had a strip that looked like wavy seaweed. And, had managed 15 stitches on the cast on edge and 16 on the other. I think the cats ripping out the provisional cast on yarn didn’t help matters. I’m blaming the cats. Am now knitting center garter strip with tension that would do an extremely nervous knitter proud. I needed to get this off my chest, apparently.

  • I would have fixed it too. I always tell students if it bugs you, it’s always going to bug you. And if it bugs you, you’re not going to wear it or give it so you’re going to be putting all these hours into something and not be happy with it.

  • You’re in good company. I’m planning to completely frog a sweater I knit last year and have even worn a few times because I know better now how to knit with the linen yarn it’s made from. How nuts is that?

    • I’m right there with you, Melanie. I have an entire sweater’s worth of silly expensive yarn slated for frogging because it really just wasn’t the right yarn for the project, in spite of all my denial. I actually feel great about it. I learned a lot in the process and the yarn will be lovely in another more suitable project.

      • Nice to have the choice. My wool allergy means choice for me is very much restricted, especially as I dislike artificial fibre. Which makes life expensive too!

  • I would have fixed it too. Even though I’d likely be the only one to ever notice it, it would bug the hell out of me.

  • I once reknit the entire yoke of a Fair Isle sweater 3 times to get it right. You would not have loved wearing that shawl with the boo boo staring you in the face each time you put it on. Good move!

  • I like how in knitting you have the option of ripping back and fixing mistakes. Not many things in life are like that. I probably would have done exactly as you did – denial first, then surrender.

    • So true! My husband is a woodworker. No fixing mistakes for him. I love that in knitting we can.

  • I would have done your first fix, but not likely beyond. I have a Honey Cowl where the line which should mark the end of the rows wanders a bit. After that I used {gasp} a marker!

  • I would have fixed it, but only after knitting much farther. The good news about ripping back your knitting is it leads to more knitting!

  • Sometimes I let things go, but when I do decide to rip back hours of work for something that no one else would ever notice, I never regret it.

  • I absolutely would have ripped it out…I wouldn’t even have tried to fix it. Why? Because over the years, I’m never satisfied with the way it looks after I’ve tried to fix it. So now I waste no time…I just pull everything off the needles. If only we could fix all of life’s problems so easily! You’ll you happy when all is said and done!

    • I’m with ya, Maureen, I don’t even bother any more trying to “fix” a mistake, unless it is a simple dropped stitch that can be fixed with a crochet needle. I would rip it out in a heartbeat, even if I am the only person who would have ever known that mistake existed.

  • If it was bothering you now, it would keep bothering you. And who wants to spend a large amount of time knitting something that makes them crazy? It’s true that no one else might have noticed it, but you would have — every time you looked at it. A little ripping and reknitting is sometimes good for the soul.

  • Totally with you . Maybe that’s why we all knit – because unlike many things in life (and other crafts – sewing, I’m looking at you) it is possible to rip the whole thing right back down to atoms, start over and get it right.

    • Yes, that’s one of the reasons I like knitting, too! You start with sticks and string, and end up with something beautiful and pleasing, if you’re lucky. If not, you can take it all out and be down to sticks and string again, with any numbers of “do-overs” possible! Well, except for felting…

  • Add me to the list of people who’d have ripped & fixed it. Even if you believe that whole trotting horse thing, I’d see it every time I put it on, regardless of what the horse saw.

  • Oh, I think I would have done what you did. There’s something satisfying about ripping back round after round and starting over at the spot where you made that first mistake. And after a few days, you can almost forget it ever happened.

  • Blocking would have really helped even out those repaired stitches. Just sayin’.

  • I have a top down raglan silk cardigan that’s been in time out for 3 years because I was so irritated about the same problem. But for the raglan yarn overs, I know it would show.

  • Looks like I am in good company. I would have tried to fix it, tried to live with it and then let it rip. It would only have bothered me more as time went on.

  • I would have done the exact same thing. Otherwise, every time I picked the project up, that mistake may as well have a bright blinking light attached to it making me see it every time.

  • You and I are unanimous on this.

  • Just curious. Are you a Virgo? I like to think of my knitting perfectionism as a healthy place to put it. That way it doesn’t ooze into the rest of my life.

    • Here’s another Virgo, and I’m an Enneagram One as well. We have perfectionist tendencies, to put it mildly. I would definitely have ripped it. BUT… see my reply below…

    • Another Virgo here. I would have tried to fix it. When I didn’t like the look of that, I would try to tell myself that blocking fixes everything. When i came round to that spot again, I’ have started frogging, because that I know that that corner would be there looking up at me every single time, always, and I would know.

      • I’m a Virgo too, the daughter of a Virgo, and grand-daughter of another Virgo. I’m with Joan, not much of a housekeeper, don’t wear makeup, but things have to be put away, the beds must be made, and things need to be done in a particular order. My order. I’m a little easier on myself in my knitting but then I’ve been known to frog a nearly done sock because I wasn’t happy with the way I picked up stitches. I would have counted on creative blocking to fix the wonky stitches–I think.

    • OH, we Virgos do have a time of it, don’t we?

      I’m not much of a housekeeper, I don’t cook if possible, I’ve given up make up and store-bought haircuts long ago, but I do expect my knitting to be right on!

  • I would probably have fixed it by laddering down several adjacent sts at the same time, and then knitting the span of dropped sts back up as a “row.” Then I would have realized I swapped the hanging loops of frogged yarn on two of the rows, so I would have laddered them *again*, and re-knit them a second time.

    • Me, too. I have been lucky about this kind of mistake and have always been able to fix it by laddering the whole section plus a couple extra stitches on each side, all the way down to the mistake, then knitting the entire section back up on dp’s that are one size smaller, and finally fiddling with the re-knit stitches until they all lie nicely with no extra sag in any of them. If it still looked wonky, I would have tried blocking that corner (although that’s hard during an airplane trip). Only if it *still* looked imperfect (which knock wood so far never has happened) would I rip and redo.

      • It’s killing me that so many here are ripping back, when it’s so much easier (and faster!) to ladder down a span of sts. I absolutely fix my mistakes, but unless I skipped an entire row of the pattern, I can’t think of the last time I ripped back multiple rows to fix a mistake. I once laddered down 12 rows of the center 120 sts of a 240+ st afghan because I had skipped a 6-row cabling sequence in the center panel (the cables crossed every 6 rows, but not in the same place each time). I slid the sts onto a separate circular needle and just re-knit that center panel.

  • I’m learning the trotting horse rule and trying to abide by it. It’s all according to the complexity of the piece, i.e., complex project = me not caring about a mistake several rows back that can’t be seen from a trotting horse because it took too long to get where I am now. Easy project… mmm, maybe I won’t mind re-knitting those rows.

    I recently saw someone in a Ravelry group advise someone not to frog; she said she once made an error she thought could be seen from the moon, but she let it go, and when she pulled the finished piece out of the drawer a few months down the road, she couldn’t find the mistake. That taught me a lot and I’ve already found myself unable to find that mistake I almost couldn’t live with.

  • You did the right thing. For so many reasons. Knit on with your bad self.

  • My Husband always wants a frogging veto. But I almost always frog it out and start over, even if I’m the only one who would see it. To use Kondoese, it would not have brought you joy.

  • I too will rip back when it bugs me. And I am working on getting through the denial period a little quicker, so I only have to rip back 1o rows instead of 25. (Note: working on.)

  • I would have fixed it. I’m old school that way. I learned from my aunt who was keen to rip it out for you even if you didn’t think it would show. I never heard the trotting horse rule. Then again we always had mules when I was growing up and I guess you can’t trot them as well.

  • Kay, I would have done exactly what you did! Tinking and reknitting aren’t such bad things if one is a process knitter at heart and there’s no looming deadline. Ha! When is there not a looming deadline?? Last night (with a deadline looming) I did have to tink out 6 rows of lace on a baby blanket in order to put back one stitch that got lost in the sauce of a neighboring yarn over. But it really wasn’t so bad because I had Grace and Frankie to keep me company 🙂

  • You do you, Kay, you do you.

  • I also would have fixed it. That kind of thing drives me nuts.

  • I think that how you deal with this situation reflects where you are in your life (knitting!) at that particular moment. It may have something to do with the reason you are knitting this project. If you are a process knitter, you are more likely to correct the error.

  • I’m of the same ilk, Kay. I’d make it “right.” I came to this a long time ago and realized that for me it’s about having my personal space in a way. By necessity I make compromises in nearly every area of my life – work, kids, meals, housework. Knitting (or handwork in general) is something I will not compromise. It’s within my power, usually, to have it exactly as I like. This is so seldom the case in other realms. Knit on.

  • Just look at it as more quality time with lovely yarn. At least that is what I tell myself when I do the exact same thing and always fix my mistakes:)

  • You make me feel normal, because I just cannot let things like that go, either.

  • You’re just naming it wrong – what you did was make the most beautiful garment you could. It’s not obsessive – it’s just high-quality craft. right? I’m with the folks who say – in many parts of my life I can’t fix mistakes – but in knitting I can! Such a pleasure.

  • You are my hero. I also am so distracted by a mistake that it will bug me until I rip,rip it out!!!!!! Sadly my knitting life lately is living the frog life.I have tried the “design” theory for my mistakes but I know I’m only lying to myself. Also in the middle on a plane again this week, dreaming of my bed also!

  • They call me Debra Ripper

  • I’m moved by all the knitting perfection in this world, but I’m afraid I’m more pragmatic – my rule is “Does the recipient of this lovely garment knit?” I the answer is No, then the imperfection stays in. Babies are the best, because they seldom examine their cardigans very closely. Of course, if the recipient is me, then rrrrrrip it goes – and I have another evening of lovely reknitting.

  • I would have done the same thing! ( and yes – I’m a Virgo)
    My line that gets me through it though: it’s all knitting ( whether the first time or after I’ve pulled it out a dozen times.)
    Happy knitting!
    PS – I love that shawl pattern!

  • Without question I would rip it and re-knit. I don’t care how long it takes. I am a total perfectionist and I’m ok with that…. And I’m so happy to see I’m in good company! Think of how great it will be when finished. : )

  • I’m would have done the same thing.
    Knowing that a mistake is in my work kindof makes me crazy, and I frog/tink if a fix doesn’t work.
    So I totally empathize.

  • I would have ripped it out too.

  • I have a good knitting friend who says if the mistake is going to bother you longer than it takes to fix it, fix it!

  • If a mistake bugs me every time I knit past it–time to fix. I just made the simplest of mistakes for several rows (forgot to do one set of decreases) on a project yesterday and for one millisecond I continued carrying on and making the row count work later, but I knew it would bother me forever. So I’ve got a bit of ripping to do this morning.

  • I would have fixed it my eyes would always have gone to that spot. Besides as far as ripping out & having to knit back to that spot …I would be knitting anyway!

  • I am a process knitter, so rip and fix would be my route. I also couldn’t stand cringing every time I rounded that corner. Looks like most responding here would do the same – so you are among your people!

  • That “trotting horse” thing always strikes me as irrelevant to the point of slight goofiness. On the other hand, I once had a carpenter working here, who used to stand back, squint at his own less-than-excellent work and announce, “Can’t see it from my house!” This rankled enough that I finally said, “And can you see my checkbook from there?” Which – to bring us back to the original reference – put a stop to his gallop.

  • You were absolutely right to rip it back. I would have done the same* because though we may be “process” knitters, we still love that at the end of the process we have made something beautiful. And yes, you can be flawed and still beautiful, but why not fix what we can?

    *As it happens, I’m very well qualified, right now, to voice this opinion. Here’s my story, sad but true:
    I’m making a second Inner Peace, out of marvelously colored Claudia Hand Paints Linen. I was zipping along, into the second skein (300+ yards), loving how the colors were shaping up, and the jewel-like bobbles were forming, when I realized I had left out an entire repeat of section two – that’s more than 70 rows of knitting! Because of the short rows in the pattern (German! My new fave technique!) it was easier to rip it all the way back to go. But hey, it was such fun knitting, now I get to do it again! ( The attitude I’m striving for.) The bonus is that I’m doing a lot of traveling in the next couple of weeks, and I’m saving tons of time picking a project to take. This time, however, I’ll put a lifeline in after each section, just in case.

    Guess you could call this the sisterhood of the unraveling rants.
    Knit on!

    • Way to go Helen! You gave me a laugh this morning!

  • I would have fixed it, too. In fact, knowing exactly who I am, I probably would have just ripped it back the first time. I like to think/pretend I learn from experience and I have enough experience at this sort of thing to know that I would be unhappy if I don’t. A clear sign it’s time to rip back is when my little voice says, “You know, you’re going to come back and really fix/reknit this later.” Eh, sometimes I listen now, sometimes later.

  • If I didn’t fix it, I would have ended up giving it away because it would hug me so much.

  • I would have fixed it. I have tried to tell myself that the mistake doesn’t matter, or bother me, as I put in many more hours of knitting. In the end I fix it because I keep worrying at it in my mind. Now if I could just remember to fix the mistake before the extra hours of knitting! I also make more mistakes on simple garter stitch projects than complicated lace patterns because I don’t have the visual reminder of what stitches in the previous row go together in the next. Anyway, kudos to you to make this the way you want it to be!

  • Good decision, and you get twice the knitting pleasure of your yarn that way!

  • I would have frogged and fixed. Couldn’t keep it for myself as it would drive me insane and couldn’t give it away knowing there was a an error.

  • I would have had to fix it too!

  • I would have tried to fix it without the ripping but ripped back if I was unsatisfied and it annoyed me every time I looked at it. As you say, it’s just more knitting, and I would have felt good about how much better it looked knit properly. And my mother in heaven likely would also be proud as she taught me to knit and to fix my mistakes. Although I believe she’d have tried the shortcut first as well. Good knitting travel day to you!

  • I know what will make you feel better about ripping back, I’m still not done with my Stopover! I was at the color work part of the yoke, when I realized that I had not changed to the larger needles after the ribbing! I was so mad at myself, I couldn’t bring myself to work on it for several weeks.

  • I would have fixed it too. It would have driven me crazy until the end of time & I would have forever hated the project. I can deal with an occasional fudging here & there, but it has to be something that I really can’t pick out later. This would not have been one of those projects.

  • I would definitely have fixed it. I don’t care about trotting horses or other people, either; if I know the mistake is there, I pretty much * have * to repair it. For me. We don’t have that much control over most of life; at least I can fix what’s wrong with my knitting!

  • Of course y0u were right to tear back to the wonky part and fix it. You know who you are. It would have driven you “round the bend to wear it, knowing that it was seriously flawed. You are not the sort who, when informed that she had forged a path in the wrong direction through an almost impenetrable jungle, would respond, “But we*re making such fantastic progress!” Knit on!

  • I would have lived with the wonky fix. Maybe. Hard to say, really. But I admire you for knowing yourself. And besides, that is a beautiful shawl!

  • I would have put in the corner for a time out, found it 5 years later and realized that if I hadn’t finished it as is, I never would. Then I would rip it out. I have learned a few thing over the years and one of them is that rather than a time out, I rip and get it over with.

  • The “horse” theory is fine as long as it isn’t going to bug you, the maker. I would have fixed it. I’d be much happier with the finished product, and besides its double the knitting for half the price. And I’m always surprised how quickly that ripped out yarn seems to knit up.

  • Some mistakes are design elements and some mistakes are mistakes that must be fixed. I usually start in denial on the true mistakes and knit on until I realize it needs to be fixed. Ripping it out is the hard part, like pulling off a bandaid, then it goes back to knittng.

  • What happened? The website disappeared a few years ago, or so I thought, and only recently I discovered it again. Glad to have found you again!

  • Speaking for we Capricorns, those who live in Washington State, and make mistakes (knitting and otherwise) often…You did perfect! Fix (hoofed beasts involvement or not) and knit on! And on…..

  • It depends on the project and the mistake. In your situation, with the mistake right in the corner of the shawl, I would also have ripped. It just had to be done, although frogging in a middle seat in an airplane seems like a harsh setting.

    The colors look great.

  • Another Virgo here – and yes, I would have tried to fix it and then ripped it out. As a friend says – it is all playing with yarn – which is most of the joy of knitting.

  • It’s so comforting to be in such good company! I would have ripped ‘n fixed too. I’m working on a pair of Intarsia socks….for a guy….and I’ve ripped out and re-knit the first sock so many times that I’m sure I’ve racked up 12 socks worth of effort. The funny thing is that I’m the only one who would ever….ever!….see the tiny mistakes. And for certain, this sock victim would never ever notice. But I can’t let it be….so there ya have it.

  • I’m a fixer.

  • I am also a knitting perfectionist and have done what you did on numerous projects.

  • Kay, I’d have fixed it too. Unless it’s a k2tog that will just fade away, I always feel compelled to rip and fix. Good thing I love knitting!

  • One of my doctor friends says obsessive compulsion isn’t a disorder if it’s working for you. Since I would have to have had to fix the error, too, I’m hoping it’s working for all of us.

  • In your situation I would have done exactly the same. Part of the therapeutic process of knitting (for me, anyway) are the regular pauses to smooth out the knitted fabric and admire the pattern, the stitches, the yarn. Mistakes get in the way of that so even if I try to ignore them eventually I have to go back to the mistake and do it properly. But it isn’t all bad because not only does it mean extra knitting, every time you come to the point where the mistake was you get an bonus sense of satisfaction by getting it right this time!

  • … a bonus sense of satisfaction… See, I just couldn’t let it go!

  • I can’t decide if it’s a good thing or a bad one that I read this post now. I’m fiddling with a mistake made in Featherweight cardigan. You’re right, I will always see it, I can’t fix it perfectly, so I’m ripping back six LONG rows. . .

  • Right along with you, I’m at that extreme end of the perfectionist knitting scale.

  • Comment

    • My comment was and is, I would have done the same thing.

  • I would have been compelled to fix it as well, whether dropping down and laddering back up or just simply ripping back. I’m not precious with my knitting, I want it to be as well-knit as possible, and if that means ripping back a completed sweater and making something different with the yarn I have no qualms doing so.

  • I think whether I rip back or not depends a lot on where I am in the project. If I’m in the first third of it an “I want this to be perfect” attitude often prevails. If I’m in the final third, “I want this to be done,” may take over as the predominant feeling.

  • I can ignore a multitude of mistakes but there is something about corners that bring out the OCD in me. I could never let a mistake in a corner go unfixed.

  • It seems that some of us have qualifications around our ripping back ethos. One person above said it depends on how far she is into the project; another said if it’s a gift for a non-knitter, she’ll leave the mistake as is. My criterion is this: if it’s a gift for someone seven years old or under, I’ll leave a project with a mistake in it. (Note: the range on this criterion might change over time — right now I have nine grandchildren, all of whom are seven years old or under.)

  • I would have ripped back. I always rip back if I make a mistake. I may keep going, thinking it looks “ok” but I know I will rip it back eventually. (By the way, why does that happen? I can’t be the only knitter who keeps going KNOWING I will rip back to the error eventually.) I once read that when you rip something back you should never feel bad about it, just chalk it up to mental therapy and remember all the bliss you had while knitting it and that you get to do that all over again. I am a knitting perfectionist and after 48 years of almost daily knitting, I have ripped back plenty. Someone else may not see it but I will know it’s there and not fixing it would take some of the enjoyment out of the item. (:

  • Kay, in the past I have fixed things like this. I have Rams and Yowes sitting in a bag at the back of my closet due to ripping out the border (endless) twice as it wasn’t right, it still isn’t right and can never be right (the fix involves starting the whole blanket again which is a special disadvantage I have now learnt that steeked projects have).

    On Sunday I listened to a podcast with Tash (knitting store owner here in New Zealand, grand daughter of Margaret Stowe). The gist was that we should leave in our wonky bits. Accept our errors. It got me thinking about this and the Japanese concept of Wabi Sabi, accepting and even admiring the imperfect.

    I haven’t completely ordered all my thoughts, but I have made an error in the first six rows of Hapisk (didn’t read the pattern) and the yarn is small (3 ply lace weight) and the rows long (200 ish stitches), so I haven’t ripped it out.

    Every time I pick it up I think of the mistake. My mind is full of the mistake. I will have to fix my error.

    Not much help here, just frogging sympathy.

  • such pretty colors. and, i would 100% fix it, 100% of the time. (and fixing mistakes on airplanes. hands over eyes emoji)

  • I would have ripped it out, too. I’ve tried leaving little, unfixable, practically invisible mistakes, mistakes so small that hardly anyone else can see them, even on a stationary horse. It never works. Eventually I can’t stand it and rip back and fix it. After a couple painful lessons — one was a two-color brioche shawl in laceweight — I’ve learned that I won’t be able to stand that niggling sensation. Nowadays I rip back as soon as I find (and fail to fix) the mistake. Saves time in the long run, and it’s such a relief. However, judging by the state of my house, I am but OCD north-north-west.

  • I fretted all weekend over a sock that had two not terribly obvious mistakes and one sort of obvious mistake. But socks are worn on the feet, who would notice?

    I ripped the whole damn thing out this morning and we shall try once again.

  • It would bug me too. I’d fix it.

  • I am so in your camp that I just ripped back a completed sock and started over, this time at a different point in the stripe sequence and with a different ribbing. It’s looking good…
    I just know that one of the few times I didn’t rip back it was a shawl with about 300 sts per row and I had just ripped back to fix a different mistake. Couldn’t bring myself to do it again so soon, and it was on the garter stitch border for heaven’s sake! So, I talked myself into leaving the imperfect fix from dropping back down, even though I couldn’t get the right count and, like you, I had to knit 2 together to get there. I was never happy with the fix. It didn’t look better after blocking. I pointed the mistake out to the recipient – gah! So, I learned something about myself with that one. Now I just rip back and look at it as more knitting time. You’ll be glad you did.

  • I am absolutely with you. I would have ripped it out too – and have done on other projects on other occasions. Our family expression is “a blind man on a galloping horse won’t notice” – but you never know. I think it’s always best to be on the safe side xx

  • I’m compulsive that way, too. And after all, it’s only me I’m trying to please, and if I can’t ignore it, then I need to change it. And it ALWAYS feels better afterward!

  • It would show in the corners. I’d rip back too.

  • I love that knitting offers us a way to start over and fix what has gone wrong, which, as others have pointed out, is not an opportunity that we are often given! However, I don’t seem to have the kind of memory or eye that can pick out a knitting mistake long after the object is finished. Unless the mistake is an actual hole, or a glaring pattern error, I am generally in the “fuss for a while and then forget where it was” camp. Life is short, and my list of things to be knitted is long!

  • I don’t believe the redo is about the finished product but rather an exercise in training yourself. Time consuming and tedious redos train us to take greater care and result in us being less likely to make the mistake again. And, it is a comfort that we CAN redo it when life does not afford us the possibility to do the same with all mistakes.

    Nothing pathological there at all.

  • Put me with the fixers. But it would have been banished to the naughty corner for a couple of weeks first. It’s harder to reknit what you’ve recently knit, is what I’m saying. I salute you, Kay!

  • I would have ripped also. Possibly not at first, but each time I rounded the corner, (let alone just looking at it every five minutes), it would have bothered me. Get it over with and rip first!

  • I would just drop the affected stitches and work them back up. But I’ve been knitting 50 years and I’ve learned long ago that there is no such thing as perfect.

  • Those increases at the corner look to be part of the design, so I think it would have made a difference to the look of the shawl. I don’t buy the trotting horse theory, especially when it come to taking a photo of your project for Ravelry. For sure the error would show up then. I would have ripped back, too. Fixing mistakes is just part of knitting!

  • I’d have fixed it. My rule is, if it bothers you, then rip it out. It’s not worth leaving something that will make you unhappy, regardless whether anyone else will ever notice.

  • If a friend had made the mistake and done the fix, I’d have said leave it! But if it were me … I’d take it out! It would just bother me too often and too long, even if the mistake was only known to me!

  • I have enough sweaters, socks, scarves and hats to last me years. I don’t really want to knit for other people except my family and they have said ‘enough!”. But I can’t stop – I’m a knitter. So now, it’s the process that matters. The more difficult the better, the smaller the needles the more satisfaction. I would have ripped primarily because it means more knitting time and the more the merrier for me.

  • So me. I frog all the time but much like most learning, I also like the discovery of what I did wrong and how to (hopefully) not do it again. Over the years its made me appreciate even just the direction of stitches and how one change can so affect what is basically a long piece of string. Most of the people in my crafting group chuckle when I rip out another project. Its such a thing that they no longer try to stop me. I’m in awe at how they can so easily roll with mistakes.

  • I have and will continue to be a ripper when I have “messed” up.

  • I don’t want to waste my precious knitting time on second guessing if I can make something “work.” Menopause is doing wonders for my decision making process!

  • I rip back every time.

  • I would have ripped it out. But I’m not proud of that. I admire those that can just keep going. But as you say, I am who I am.

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