At what point do you give up on darning socks? I like to darn. I’ve admitted it here before. I’ve also given up on a few pairs that had been darned multiple times or that the socks had other problems that didn’t lend themselves to being salvaged.
These socks, though, are in otherwise good repair. Just a bit of pilling thanks to cashmere content & the hole that appears on the ball of my foot.
I still contend that my US Women’s 11s fit better into my own socks than in to even “extended size” commercial socks. Those all wear at the toes. These just show I’ve been moving around a bit.
I think twice. Twice may be my limit. If I had to add a third color I’d probably bin these. You? How often would you darn your socks?
Do you prefer to duplicate stitch or to weave back and forth to repair the hole?
I knit these Classy Slip Up Ribs ages ago. So many ages that a quick search couldn’t find them on Ravelry.
I bought the pink yarn at my first Stitches West. The purple was something I won that bled everytime I washed it. I didn’t love these socks, the colors didn’t really mesh. So they became my darning practice socks. I darned & darned. I practiced weaving style darning & I practiced duplicate stitch style darning.
But they have come to their end. The holes are too many and to varied. They’re no longer comfortable. I liked you in the end. But I’m not actually gonna miss you much because I’ve gotten so much better.
I adore the Turkish Bedsocks pattern from Churchmouse Yarns. I do have to adjust the row height around the heel, though, or they slip off a little too easily. And while I loved the Miss Babs in Babette color in this particular pair, they have the original, shorter heel height.
So with regret I have decided to darn them Yarn Harlot style (she stands over a bin and yells “Darn!” before dropping them in), by dumping them in the bin. Or in my case, by cutting them up and putting them in with the worms.