I mentioned my friend Marion Brenner the other day. You probably don’t know this about me, but I’ve edited and/or written a dozen books in recent years, mostly home and garden stuff. (And some massive Williams-Sonoma cookbooks.) Marion is a very highly regarded photographer in this realm, and I’ve known about her and admired her work for years, but had never crossed paths with her. We met last year through my friend Leigh and, inspired by all the knitting activity going on in our little artists’ enclave here, after not having done it for 20 years, Marion has taken up knitting again. With a vengeance! She’s on her third sweater in as many months. These days, she stops by my studio about once a week, and I coach her on her sweaters. At the moment, I’m teaching her top-down — we’re improvising a chunky, oversized, two-toned turtleneck using some confetti-tweed yarn she bought sometime in the ’80s. (She said to me, “I’m pretty sure it’s Perry Ellis yarn.” Perry Ellis!)

When she came by a few days ago, she brought a special treat — the sweater pictured here. It was the first sweater she ever made. It was 1961. She’d been knitting since she was 9; was at this point 16 years old and traveling in England; and she decided she needed to knit a sweater. It’s in amazingly good shape given its age — just a few spots that could use a little mending. I love the neck, in particular. But I am fascinated by the stitch pattern, and I can’t decipher it. It reminds me of all those wrapped stitch techniques I wrote about awhile back, but who knows. Do you know? I’m hoping someone can shed some light on this. And that you enjoy seeing it regardless.

(Submitted with apologies for my grainy iPhone snapshots. So far I’m not doing so good on my New Year’s resolution …)