The Bed Jacket Revisited

 

In winter my standard sleepwear outfit consists of a pair of tartan flannel pajama bottoms that I sew myself, and a thrift shop long-sleeved t-shirt in a coordinating colour. It costs me under $25 and a few hours of work to put together a new pajama set, and I usually have three sets on hand, each of which will last for years. The pajama bottoms usually wear out first, and if my replacement pair of bottoms isn't the right colour to go with the shirt that went with the last pair, I can reassign the shirt to the dresser drawer that holds my daytime wear long-sleeved t-shirts. Sometimes, if I have one in just the right colour, I'll take a long-sleeved t-shirt from my daytime wear drawer and pair it with the new pajama bottoms I've just sewn. In other words, my pajama bottom and t-shirt combination is a cost, material, and work-efficient sleepwear choice. The one drawback is that it isn't is quite warm enough for a 1912-built house in Toronto winter weather.

I spend most of my evenings sitting up in bed knitting or working on some other needlework and watching movies or TV shows on my laptop, and during the winter months I was finding myself becoming uncomfortably chilly at the above-blanket level, and sometimes had trouble staying warm enough when sleeping too. I tried wrapping an afghan around my shoulders but it wouldn't stay in place owing to the kind of arm movements my needlework efforts entailed. I began wearing my bathrobe, which worked better, but given its length it was awkward to sit up in bed and to sleep in it. I could have worn a hoodie or sweatshirt, of course, but their hoods, strings, and/or zippers irritated me when I was trying to sleep, and the ill-assorted look of them bugged me whenever I caught sight of myself in a mirror. I decided that I wanted a warm, comfortable layering piece to put on that coordinated with my pajamas.   

I began thinking about bed jackets. Bed jackets are one of those quaintly charming articles of dress and appointment that have all but fallen by the wayside (see also: dress clips, hat pins, chatelaines, pocket watches, muffs, cloaks, parasols, and train cases). These days, most people just wear a hoodie or a sweatshirt or their bathrobe over their pajamas if they want an extra layer.

In Marjorie Hillis's classic manual for the single woman, Live Alone and Like It, originally published in 1936, she prescribes in detail what nightwear a woman should own:

 

We would also like to say a few words about your bedroom wardrobe. This is no place to be grim and practical. Don't worry about whether your nightgowns will wear if you are sure that they will flatter. We can think of nothing more depressing than going to bed in a washed-out four-year-old nightgown, nothing more bolstering to the morale than going to bed all fragrant with toilet-water and wearing a luscious pink satin nightgown, well-cut and trailing.

Next, of course, you'll need negligees -- at least two, one warm and one thin, and as many more as you can afford. Have them tailored or chi-chi according to your type, but have them becoming. And don't think that four bed-jackets are too many if you belong to the breakfast-in-bed school. A warm comfortable one for every-day use and a warm grand one for special occasions. A sheer cool one for summer mornings, and a lacy affair to dress up in. You can make the last two yourself out of remnants in practically no time at all. For the others, have one of quilted silk or Shetland wool, and another of padded satin or velvet in the shade that makes you most beautiful. 

 

I prize my copies of Hillis's two books Live Alone and Like It and Orchids on Your Budget, and often re-read them, mostly for their bracing tone, which has an excellent effect on me. Her practical tips offer food for thought, but usually take some adapting to make them usable for life in 2025. I totally agree with Hillis's dictum that attractive and comfortable bedroom attire is important, even if it's only seen by its wearer. Worn out, ugly, and/or unflattering lingerie is demoralizing, and who needs that? 

However, I do differ with her on what my nighttime wardrobe should look like. While I'm sure that Hillis wouldn't approve of my pajamas, they're standard sleepwear these days. I do concur with her stance on negligees, or what we more commonly call bathrobes, housecoats, or dressing gowns. It's a sound idea for a woman who lives in a four-season climate to have one long, warm, plush bathrobe (for winter) and one short, light, silky one (for summer and "special occasions" all year round). As for her prescription for bed jackets, I don't want any summer bed jackets, as my short cotton nightgowns are all I can bear to have on me in hot weather, but I agree that I could definitely use a few nice warm bed jackets for winter wear.

I wondered if there could be a modern equivalent to the bed jacket, and I did some googling, and fell down something of a rabbit hole. Amazon does offer a reasonable selection of bed jackets, ponchos, and capes in fleece, velour, and flannel, but of course I'm trying to avoid shopping on Amazon, given how they treat their workers and Jeff Bezos' compliance with Trump. I looked on Pinterest, and after realizing that bed jackets could be knitted, on Ravelry.

 

 

 

I found some exquisite examples of the bed jacket, such as the one above, which dates from the 1930s and would definitely meet with Marjorie Hillis's approval, but one like that wouldn't work with my pajamas, or even one of my cotton nightgowns. However, by the time I'd climbed out of the bed jacket research rabbit hole, I knew what I wanted in a bed jacket: it needed to be warm, it needed to be comfortable for both sitting up in bed and for sleeping in, it needed to go with my pajamas, and ideally it should also elevate the look of my pajamas a little. 

 

 

 

I decided I would need to sew a bed jacket, and visited Simplicity.com to see what patterns they had that would fit my criteria. I wound up selecting the pattern depicted above, Simplicity S9210, deciding that the cowl- necked top would do very well if made in a fleece or velour. It wouldn't be a bed jacket exactly, but something that could be more accurately described as a "pajama pullover". I decided to make three: one in cream, one in dark brown, and one in a colour. I bought cream fleece and spring green fleece, and ribbons to go with each. I couldn't find a brown fabric I liked in any of Toronto's fabric stores, but then I got the idea of scouting the household linens in thrift shops to look for fleece or velour blankets that could be used to make the brown pajama pullover. 

 

 

I soon found a large brown plush throw for $7.50.  

I made the cream pajama pullover first, and have been wearing it awhile. I'm wearing it right now as I type these words. It's been very satisfactory. It looks well over my pajamas and over my one flannel nightgown. I am now quite warm when I sit up in bed in the evenings, and while simultaneously eating breakfast and writing in bed in the mornings, and I can sleep in it very comfortably at night. I found the ribbon needed constant retying, which annoyed me until I got the idea of hand stitching the centre of the bow. The ribbon stays in a perfect bow now.

The brown pajama pullover got made next. I opted not to put the ribbon in this one. I like it even better than the cream one, as the colour is better on me. Wearing it over my tartan nightshirt and pajama bottoms makes me look and feel more like some sort of half bear, half hunter hybrid than an elegantly attired bachelorette, but then Canadian winters can make the most stalwart stylist care more about warmth and comfort than fashion. I used less than half of the brown blanket to make this, but I suppose I can use the rest up gradually by making some cuddly stuffed bears and bunnies for baby shower gifts.

I ended up deciding not to make the spring green pajama pullover. It would have only gone with one pair of my pajamas, and what happens when those wear out? Also, the knitted bed jacket patterns I had browsed through when researching bed jackets were calling my name. I have picked one out and plan to knit it in 2026. The spring green fleece fabric can instead be used to make a zippered jacket for daytime wear around the house in winter, as it will go very well with the five pairs of dark brown yoga pants that I basically live in during the cold season.

So, I now feel that I have winter sleepwear that is, if not quite Marjorie Hillis-approved, certainly Marjorie Hillis-informed, and also comfortable. 

Misguided Misadventures With Alpaca Yarn

For some years, my father has kept mentioning wanting to buy me some alpaca yarn from Alpaca Time, a little alpaca farm, mill, and yarn store located in Harriston, Ontario, where Dad's favourite cousin's son's wife worked until her retirement last August. Dad is fascinated with knitting and takes an especial interest in different kinds of yarn, in much the same way as he likes using as many different kinds of wood for his woodworking projects as possible. When he and my mother travelled to the Yukon back in the early 2000s, he brought me back some Qiviut yarn. He wanted the two of us to go to Alpaca Time together, but we never got around to it on my occasional visits to my parents' place. Finally last August he and my sister went there together to carry out the mission.

 

Dad bought the three hanks of yarn you see above, then gave them to me for my 51st birthday in

August 2024. (Along with five bags of sawdust, which you shall hear about in a later post.) There was no fibre content or gauge information on these hanks, but they're fingering weight, and judging from the yarn products listed on the Alpaca Time website, they could be 100% alpaca, or 85% alpaca and 15% bamboo, or 90% alpaca and 10% nylon. The skeins were 113 grams each, for a total of 339 grams. This was a little on the low side for me to make a sweater of (a fingering weight sweater in my size usually takes about 380 grams), and when I searched Ravelry for suitable patterns that evening, I had to rule out a number of patterns because they would take more yarn than I had. I toyed with the idea of adding a second yarn, but decided that I preferred this sweater to be a solid neutral tone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After some pattern browsing, I narrowed my choices down to three, and then selected the Aptenia pattern, designed by Coraline Kerisit, that you see depicted above. I didn't know the yardage of my skeins of yarn, but looked through the pattern pages of other site members who had made the Aptenia design, and it seemed to me I would have enough. I set happily to work on it in early September with the idea of getting the sweater done long before Christmas, so that my father would get to see me wear it during my holiday visit to my parents' place. 

I hardly ever have gauge problems, and as a rule I don't bother to swatch. But I had gauge problems with this one pattern. The yoke turned out huge, and I had to redo it several times, ripping it out, cutting down the number of repeats on the second take, finding the yoke still too big, and then ripping it back and cutting down more repeats. On my third attempt I found the yoke still a bit on the big side, but decided to leave it the way it was. Then I had problems with the gauge on the body. At one point I made a swatch, but my work didn't seem to knit to gauge even after that. Finally I finished the body, weighed the remaining yarn because I was concerned I was going to run short of yarn for the sleeves, knitted one sleeve and weighed the remaining yarn again... and found I was going to run 20 grams short for the second sleeve. I should have made sure that yoke was exactly the width it was supposed to be. I've done plenty of ripping out in my knitting life and have gotten quite hardened to the necessity of it, but I don't think I've ever found it harder to rip out a piece of work. I must have worked on that sweater for six weeks, and it was lovely. 

Back to Ravelry I went to pick out a second pattern. This time I looked at designs that involved two colours, with the idea that once I picked one out, I'd go shopping for a second coordinating yarn to piece out the fawn alpaca. (I did check my stash but didn't find anything suitable.) I didn't so much pick out another pattern as get a concept for another design. I got the idea of making a sweater that would have a flat collar, buttoned placket, cuffs, and waistband that was striped in the fawn and a coordinating colour, which I intended to design myself. I went to Michaels to see what kind of contrast yarn they might have, and purchased a skein of Patons Kroy Socks FX in Clover Colors, which is a variegated fingering. I thought the extra 50 grams plus the alpaca would surely be sufficient yarn for that sweater, and if not, I could buy a second skein of the Patons Kroy and make longer cuffs or something. I also bought some buttons for the placket.

I began again, and made the body of the sweater, knitted in the placket and the flat collar, then began knitting the first sleeve... and discovered that I was, again, going to run short of the fawn yarn. I think the problem was that I knitted the body in too small a gauge, and it consequently soaked up more yarn than necessary. Oh, these misguided misadventures in knitting! It is to laugh! It is to stab oneself in the head with a knitting needle!

 

But there was nothing for it but to go back to Ravelry again, and pick out another design. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This time I zeroed in on Lea, by Marzena Kolaczek, as pictured above. It was one of the three original patterns I had been considering the evening of my birthday celebration. The amount of fawn alpaca yarn I had should have been more than enough to make it, but by this time I was so paranoid about running short again that I decided I'd use the Kroy sock yarn to do the yoke in order to be absolutely certain I could finish this third take.

And here's take three, finally finished. I had to go back to Michaels and buy another skein of the Patons Kroy Socks FX to have enough for the yoke. Ultimately, I used an extra 90 grams of the contrast variegated fingering, and then had 88 grams of the fawn alpaca left... which means I could probably have done this entire sweater in the alpaca, as I made the sleeves slightly longer than necessary. Again, this sweater was one of the three patterns I picked out originally, so if I'd just decided on this pattern in the first place, I could spared myself a lot of extra work and frustration, not to mention the expense of two extra skeins of yarn, an extra pattern, and buttons I now have no use for.

But I mustn't dwell on that, as it makes me feel stabby. I do like the result, and while that first all-fawn sweater would have been lovely, this version is probably more flattering on me, as that fawn colour isn't so great next to my face. This skirt doesn't quite go with the tartan wool skirt you see here, but it will go with jeans and olive khakis. I just had to have something to pair the sweater with that would go on my dress form. 

I have 88 grams of the fawn left, and 10 grams of the Patons Kroy variegated. I'm thinking socks, but not this year, as that alpaca yarn has left me a little too battle scarred to work with it again for the time being.

A Sweet Sixteen Sweater

 

My grandniece Cauliflower will turn 16 this summer. She's getting to the age now where she's more or less full grown and may be wearing the sweaters I make her for some years to come instead of growing out of them in a year or two. She's also gotten to age at which she wants to pick out her own clothes. However, I still want to make her sweaters for a few more years yet, so play it safe by gravitating towards classic designs when picking out a pattern for her annual birthday gift. Even the pickiest people with the most specific tastes don't tend to object to a gift of classic knitwear.

When I searched Ravelry for a suitable pattern for Cauliflower's birthday present, I came across the Holly design you see pictured above, from Marie Amelie Designs. It's classic, wearable, and flattering, with a nice bit of texture to give it some distinction. 

As for the yarn, I visited Romni Wools during Boxing Week 2024 to see what they had. Last year Romni Wools was forced to close their main store on Queen Street because the rent had gotten too high to make the location financially viable, and now their only Toronto location is their Weston Road store. It's much smaller than the Queen Street store, so Romni Wools' selection is now less than half what it was. When I looked for a machine washable DK wool for this sweater, I only really had one brand to choose from -- Garnstudio Drops Karisma -- and not a lot of colour selection. I ruled out the blue yarns, because Cauliflower's 15th birthday present sweater was blue. I ruled out pink, as Cauliflower hasn't liked pink in years. I ruled out some other colours as being too drab or unflattering or unattractive, and that left me purchasing 450 grams in shade 39, "Dark Old Rose", which I think is more of a plum, and hoping Cauliflower would like it.

The completed sweater. I think it turned out quite well, though I'm afraid I might have gotten the sleeves a little long. 

I am much more confident of the other component of Cauliflower's birthday gift. At Christmas I asked her what subjects she was taking that semester, and which was her favourite? She told me her favourite course was Food Studies, and that she really enjoys cooking. I asked her what her favourite thing was to cook, and she said, "Pizza." So, when I saw this good-as-new cookbook on artisanal pizza baking at my local Value Village, I snapped it up for Cauliflower. 

Sixteen is a milestone for a teenager. In Ontario, a kid who reaches sixteen is eligible to get their driver's license, which is a big step forward in terms of greater freedom and independence. My gift isn't at all as exciting as that prospect and it won't open any new doors for Cauliflower, but it just might serve to keep her warm and comfortable on cold days, and take her pizza baking skills to the next level.