Two years after designing the Novemberist set, I returned to colorwork. I’d spent the time knitting texture, cables, and lace—different ways to play with yarn and stitch patterns—but colorwork was calling, and I just wanted to create. I also wanted an easy project for on-the-go knitting.

I pulled out the second chevron chart I’d swatched before I made the Novemberist Hat, one of the two I hadn’t used. Then I borrowed the brim construction from Aslyn, a pattern I’d developed in those two years, and started playing with how they could work together. I found the yarns in my stash once again: a vibrant, speckled pink from Stitches West 2020 and a deep charcoal grey I’d also picked out at the local yarn shop where I held my first trunk show. They were unexpected together—nothing like the jewel tones I usually reach for. But knitting with that pink? Different colored speckles emerged with each strand, and every stitch had its own character. I couldn’t wait to get to the next one.

My favorite part though? That was designing the crown. As I was testing the shaping I’d charted, the stitch pattern surprisingly formed itself into a geometric star. It’s not obvious from the chart, or even while you’re knitting it. The fabric just condenses, each round gets faster, and then suddenly it’s there. Like a reward for your effort. That’s Kestra.

November 2018 felt like it held multiple lifetimes. That month, I had my first trunk show at a local yarn shop, where I picked up two skeins for a hat design I had brewing. Then my husband Cody, his little cousin, and I took our first trip to Victoria, British Columbia, to explore the city, catch live music, and enjoy great food. And after all that, I attempted something I'd never done before: stranded colorwork.

The design process was playful and exciting. I developed three chevron charts, swatched two, and chose one for this pattern—the other would later become my Kestra Hat. While making the very first hat in the colors I'd chosen at the LYS, I learned to keep my floats relaxed, to catch them properly, and to maintain the right color dominance. It was awkward and fun, using both my hands together in a way that was entirely new.

For the final sample, Cody helped me choose colors from my stash: a warm red with rust and strawberry undertones for the chevrons, paired with natural for the background. I made the brim doubly thick, both for warmth and because I loved how a pop of color would peek out from beneath it. I'd done something similar on another hat pattern called Corbin, and I really loved the look.

The hat that emerged from that memorable month became part of the Novemberist set, a hat and mitt pairing that’s waiting to become part of your story too.

After I released the Indira shawl, I wore it everywhere—to work, knit nights, a winter wedding. Anywhere I wanted elegance without overthinking it. But in some settings, like around my office, I realized a smaller accessory would be more practical. I found myself wanting something I could throw on and that would stay put. A cowl with the same stitch patterns felt perfect, so I started sketching.

The size and shape were crucial. I wanted the same beautiful drape as the shawl and decided to make the cowl wider at the base, narrower at the top. I also wanted to knit as much of that striking double-braided cable as possible. Sideways construction was the answer. It gave me the opportunity to play with short rows, which I’d been wanting to explore more, and to include not just one but two cables! The fun part was problem-solving and figuring out how to execute it so the pattern would be repeatable. When I finally drew a short-row diagram that looked promising, I circled it and wrote, “This works!”

I knit two prototypes to test the construction. The first was too narrow at the top and never saw the light of day. The second one was where things clicked. I was amazed to see the short rows work exactly as I’d sketched them, creating that perfect funnel shape. This sample needed some fine-tuning, but it quickly became part of my knitwear rotation too.

Once the design came together, finding the perfect yarn was next. A bold, dark red colorway in La Bien Aimée’s catalog stood out as the one. I savored every stitch from cast on to bind off, and I was especially excited to be able to wear my finished cowl when meeting Aimée for the first time at Stitches West 2020.

I’ve made two more Indira Cowls since then, including one in yellow for La Bien Aimée’s boutique in Paris, and I constantly reach for any one of the three I still have. It’s exactly the kind of accessory I was looking for—elegant, practical, wearable. Maybe it’s what you’ve been looking for too.