Thoughtful, detailed patterns for adventurous knitters.

For many years, my yarn cabinet was home to four skeins—two singles and one pair—that drew my eye every time I perused my stash but that I thought weren’t enough for anything bigger than a hat or a cowl. They were all beautiful but, sadly, discontinued and irreplaceable. Then, during a particularly demanding time at work, I just needed something easy and practical to knit. Some people turn to garter stitch. Others go for brioche. For me, it’s a potato-chippy, rhythmic textured lace stitch—the same squishy fabric that shows up in several of my patterns. I’d also noticed that skinny scarves were having a moment, so I decided to make one myself. And I knew exactly which yarns to reach for.

I started with just a few stitches and played with shaping ratios before casting on in earnest. Once the scarf was on my needles, I enjoyed the pattern and the colorplay of the variegated, silk/merino I was using so much that I finished in just a week. After blocking, I excitedly tried it on and thought it might be the cutest accessory I’d ever made. I immediately wanted to make another, so I cast on again using slightly faster shaping and a leftover skein from my second, burgundy Nydia pullover. I loved this one just as much as the first. Making a third was only natural. But this time, I wanted to use up two skeins of a creamy Aran weight I’d been saving for some sort of neckwear, so I used an even faster shaping ratio. In the end, all three scarves were different and wearable in their own right.

I called this pattern the Tipping Point Scarf not only for the obvious reasons—that it’s knit from tip to tip and reaches a point in the center—but also because it’s the result of pushing the shaping just far enough with what you’ve got until what feels like barely enough yarn becomes a full scarf.

That special skein at the back of your stash or the lovely yarn you bought on a whim? Cast on and find its tipping point.

In September 2018, I walked out of my local yarn shop with a sweater quantity of yarn and a familiar feeling. You know the one: that on-the-brink of starting something new, creative juices flowing, and endless possibilities feeling that only a maker can know. I didn’t have a pattern in mind, but I knew that this yarn would become something special.

Then something funny happened: I kept unintentionally sketching the same design. A pullover with cabled panels, a rounded neckline, “cold” shoulders, and set-in armholes appeared eight times, to be exact, on different days and in separate sketchbooks. It was almost as if the yarn was telling me, "This is what I want to be."

Now with a clear vision in mind, I started swatching. The yarn by itself was beautiful, soft, and airy with fantastic drape, but it lacked the cozy factor I was going for. When I paired it with a mohair/silk blend, the fabric transformed. It had depth and warmth, and it felt like kittens and clouds—exactly what I wanted.

In late 2019, I cast on and quickly realized that top-down construction wasn’t practical for the design I had sketched, so I restarted from the bottom up. When I tried it on for the first time, something was off. I frogged back and reknit the yoke. Still not right. I frogged again. And again. I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong. All I know is that I was feeling pretty deflated. The yarn was practically begging me to stop frogging and reknitting it, and I needed a break.

Apparently, a three-year break.

Over those years, thoughts of “needing to finish that sweater” hung over my head. Would I ever finish? Had I failed? But while the sweater waited, I kept learning—about fit, grading, size inclusivity. I poured that knowledge into other patterns. And each time I released something new, I’d pull this sweater out with renewed determination. Yet I still didn’t have the answer.

It finally hit me in fall 2023. What if I changed everything? V-neck instead of scoop neck. Closed shoulders instead of open. Raglan sleeves instead of set-in. The revisions came together perfectly, and when I finally tried it on again . . . it worked!

This design challenged me more than any other. There was a span of time where I didn’t think I could finish it. But things got easier—things fell into place—when I stopped trying to force an idea and let the design take me where it wanted to go all along. In hindsight, it feels a little like serendipity.

It was, simply, “Meant to Vee.”

Is there a type of garment that you haven’t made yet? Perhaps you've never knitted (or worn!) a vest before. Or maybe you’ve already made a few and you’re looking for a pattern that feels fresh—something quick, transitional, and size-inclusive for the season ahead.

I was in the first camp when I tuned into an Instagram Live one afternoon, where two besties talked all about a vest-along they were about to participate in. As they excitedly chatted about silhouettes, textures, and how they’d style a vest, I couldn't think about anything else. Before the live even ended, I’d grabbed the nearest notepad and scribbled a few rough sketches based on another pattern I had in test knitting at the time.

The first sketch was heavily cabled, front and back. “Keep it simple!”, I thought to myself. But it was the third sketch—the last one on that notepad—that stood out as “the one.”

I started a spreadsheet and ordered yarn faster than it took you to read this sentence. One package was coming from another state, the other from a couple hours north of me. Tracking said nearly a week. Torture!

To my relief, the yarn arrived four days sooner than estimated, and just in time for me to work on it while podcasting and watching You’ve Got Mail with my own bestie during her visit from Canada. There’s something special about knitting with someone you love in the room, even if you’re both just doing your own thing.

As I made progress on the pattern and then worked on a second sample, my husband—completely unaware of what (or who!) had inspired me to drop everything else—started calling it the Bestie Vestie. I loved how that name rolled off the tongue. It was cute, memorable, and different from anything I’ve named before.

The icing on the cake: 90 test knitters helped bring this pattern to life, and so many of them said the same thing—this is the best-fitting thing they’ve ever made. If you decide to make one too, whether as your first vest or a new one to add to a growing collection, I hope that it’s your Bestie Vestie yet.

Some people are just knit-worthy. You know the ones—the people you can’t help but knit for. For me, that’s always been my husband’s cousin, someone I’ve watched grow from a shy preteen into a kind and confident woman. She’s always cherished every handmade gift, no matter how small, so when she announced she was expecting her first child, my first thought was, “I’m going to knit for the baby!”

Time flew, and before I knew it, her baby was a toddler. But once I had the idea and the perfect yarn, everything clicked into place. The knitting flew by in less than a month because every stitch felt like a celebration of this special little girl. When I finally saw her wearing it—running around, playing, and completely living in it—I knew I’d made something truly special.

This is that knit. It’s a top-down, raglan cardigan with an elegantly simple lace stitch that’s both easy to memorize and completely addictive. You’ll find yourself saying, “Just one more row…” until it’s done—and then you’ll want to see it out in the wild, being worn and loved the way it was meant to be.

My little model put hers through a rigorous toddler durability test during our photo shoot—snacks, dirt, and all! But no worries: a little lint rolling and a quick spot clean later, the cardigan was good as new.

Since then, this pattern has been tested by knitters all over the world, and the stories that came back made my heart so full. Little ones refusing to take their cardigans off. Toddlers twirling around like tiny runway models. Kids who insisted on wearing theirs everywhere. That's the thing about knitting for children—when you get it right, they know, and they'll show you in the best possible ways.

And let’s be honest—who doesn’t love a mini-me moment? If you’re already imagining how cute this cardigan would look on you, guess what? There’s a grown-up version of the Nydia Cardigan available too. Because why should kids have all the fun?