Once you get into a rhythm of designing knitting patterns, you notice certain quirks or idiosyncrasies about yourself. Not editorial things – but ranging from methodical quirks about how your brain works to various kinds of neurodivergence.
It’s easy to understand that we’re all unique. We have our own ways of doing things and expressing ourselves. This is reflected in the choices we make and how we work with what we have; why we choose certain words over others, the style or aesthetic beauty of our designs, or the designs we choose to knit. Or – and this is one of things all knitters reckon with – how we knit. Is the yarn on the left, or is it on the right? And how do we hold the needles?
This kind of thing can be hard to capture for design, especially in the doing or the processes involved. And whilst giving Studio Spotlights members a sketchbook tour earlier this month, I realised that my (in)ability to count – or that I lose count very easily – is very much a double-edged sword. It’s responsible for challenges I’ve faced throughout life – but it’s also responsible for one of my biggest strengths as a knitwear designer.
So here are five ways in which my personal difficulty with counting affects me. If you struggle with maths, this is especially for you; and for everyone reading, I hope this helps you to see your brainpower in a new light.
1. I can only count stitches in groups of five
This is truly, hand on heart, the only way that I can count quantities easily. (And yes, I love tallies too!) But counting in fives is my safety net. I know that if I lose count, I can only be on a number ending in 5 or zero. Those are the only two possibilities.
I settled on fives because they’re the only interval that forms a pattern, or a binary pattern. Five or zero – that’s it. Nothing else is possible, and that makes me feel less anxious if my brain decides to crash.
And if my brain does crash, there’s a fix for that too. Counting groups of five stitches creates cute clusters on the needle. This means that I can count each cluster and multiply by 5 if I get lost.
(Side note: I have never been more grateful that Mrs. Iqbal had the times tables up to 12 on the classroom wall when I was 6-7 years old. We recited them all the time at school, and I remember being drawn to patterns in the sequences of numbers. Have you noticed the ones in the 3, 6, and 9 times tables?)
2. I really need visualisations, or support from visual branches of maths
Things like ratio, fractions, factors and multiples are helpful (read: lifesavers) because you can identify visual relationships or patterns more easily. You can also give it context.
Recipes like 2 parts of flour to 1 part of butter – a ratio of 2:1 – for shortcrust pastry make it easier for me increase quantities. It also means I can choose whether to make a pastry lid or a crumble topping for cooking apples spiced with cinnamon, brown sugar, and some nutmeg. The only difference is water, and I don’t count or measure water 😉
This is no doubt why my music education helps me. especially note values. These halve each time (or double, depending on which way you go): whole note, half note, quarter note, eighth note, etc. Or semibreve, minim, crotchet, and quaver. As a child, I had this music book which turned all the notes and symbols into characters, and I’ve never forgotten!
3. This is why surface pattern design is my superpower
Assembly | Cable Scarf Knitting Pattern
My brain already thinks in pattern, so designing stitch patterns comes easily and naturally. I also love that this was knitters’ second favourite thing about my knitwear designs in a recent newsletter survey 🙂
I can’t count very well, but I am good at spotting, creating, or uncovering relationships between things. And patterns – or tessellations – are a beautiful example of visual and mathematical relationships. I always draw out the stitch pattern on squared paper first, letting my eyes lead or guide me, and then I locate the repeat after I’ve finished drawing. Only then do I do any counting to establish the repeat multiple, draw a box around it, and note the number of offset stitches needed for symmetry.
Surface pattern also helps me because the pattern repeat unit gives me a visual cue whilst counting. I get lost and sometimes drown in acres of stocking stitch, because there’s nothing to latch onto. I work to length instead of a number of rows, so I make sure I can trust my gauge or tension!
Stitch patterns are also perfect for counting rows in my world. All I have to do is memorise how many rows there are in the repeat, and that gives me all the support I need. I can work full repeats at a time, so whenever I come back to my knitting I’m on row 1. The visual bias also means I can read my knitting quickly.
And finally, I can count the number of repeats by multiplying, like with my fives. So if a pattern repeats over 8 rows, and I can count 8 motifs, I know I’ve knitted 64 rows in pattern.
4. Row counters are not and have never been my friend
My mum doesn’t understand this – “Isn’t a row counter made for this?” – and I know some of you will agree with her! But I never remember to use it, it’s yet another thing to faff around with, and the extra weight on one needle bugs me. It’s a sensory thing.
The deeper truth is that I tend to get lost in knitting and hyperfocus. I’m only aware of the rhythms and repeats. When I’m in full flow, I don’t have room in my brain to twiddle row counters or scribble in a notebook. It’s just me, the needles, and the yarn. I rely on my senses.
And let’s just say that the worst time to interrupt me is when I’m learning the pattern or choreography. I always try to be alone or in complete silence.
I am always envious and fascinated when I get the privilege of seeing other knitters’ notebooks. They are so lovingly kept; artefacts and works of art in their own right. The storytelling element of notes on patterns and alterations is beautiful to me. Especially when I see columns of tallies within the pages!
5. I chose a technical editor who is better than I will ever be at maths
It will come as no surprise for you to learn that most of my corrections during technical editing are due to counting. Kate Atherley knows how much I adore and respect her – she has done SO MUCH cleaning up after me over the years! And with such dedication and patience, too. Thank you, Kate.
90% of my errors involve basic arithmetic, specifically addition and subtraction. Multiplication and division are rare, because that’s where patterns live. It’ll be things like shaping, or where there’s an unrelated sequence of numbers as you transition from one body measurement to another. I always contour these to the body; I never contrive rhythms or formulas here. Fit is far too important.
I also want to take a moment for the precious relationship between knitwear designer and technical editor. Picking the right one for you as a designer merits its own blog post, but Kate was my first choice when I decided to self-publish knitting patterns. Why? Not just because I’d met her and liked her, but because she has gifts that I’ll never have.
Kate’s brain is like greased lightning when it comes to mathematics and programming, but she does so much more than pick me up whenever I trip over numbers. She goes the extra mile (or ten) of trying to understand what I want to make my numbers say. She knows I have it visually, but that I can struggle to translate things into discrete data. Nothing mathematical bothers her, and – most impactful of all – it doesn’t tire her out as much as it does me.
I’ve shared several safety nets with you so far, but Kate’s web is the safest of all. Kate will always count, and I can always count on Kate.
Casting off
I want to say that there’s no right or wrong way to deal with maths, numbers, or counting. Everything I’ve shared with you today has been discovered through trial, error, and life experience. I learnt that my brain perceived numbers differently. Times tables were fine – patterns, long-term memory – but I had to accept that calculating in my head would never be easy, nor quick. I punch numbers into the calculator all the time, especially now that I don’t have anyone to berate me for it.
And the mental and emotional energy I used to waste trying to make my brain do something it’s not wired for is directed elsewhere. I can make even more of my strengths, get better at things at which I already excel. I’ve found out something about what doesn’t work, so the time and effort I spend with my sleeves rolled up, deep in concentration, is worth it.
So, this designer who can’t count wants you to know that any so-called weaknesses are always countered by strengths. Don’t write yourself off before seeing what’s on the other side of the coin. Any way that works for you is the right way, because of your very uniqueness mentioned back in the second paragraph – which feels like a long time ago! And you can rely on your strengths and uniqueness so much more than you realise – especially if your brain works a little bit differently. Originality is the essence of design, so don’t repress or shy away from yours.
Finally, thank you for reading, and a big thank you to Katie and Connie for their ongoing support via Ko-Fi!
If you’d like to support my blog regularly or contribute to the tip jar, click the pink button on the bottom left.
And if you found this blog post helpful or inspiring, please share it with others so they can benefit too. Thank you 🙂
Pingback:Knitwear Design and Applied Maths | Coda - Natalie in Stitches
This has been so wonderfully encouraging to read, thank you. I struggle so hard with even simple calculations, so grading is a minefield for me.
💕 thank you so much – you’re the reason I wrote this. There is a way through, and I hope this makes things quicker for you than it was for me 🙏🏾