They are slightly longer than my average sock--which when folded at the heel, has a foot about the same length as leg (these are about 1 inch taller)
The toe is pointed, and the heel turning is also a pointed "handkerchief" one, too.
The ridged ribs make it a nice snug sock--that looks good on LEGS and on my legs, too.
Secret socks took up most of Monday—they now have heels (a pair of heels) and then some.
Knitting (but totally non blogging!) friends got to see them tonight at Tuesday knitting at Maducatis—All 3 secret socks—and one friend said—Oh I want to make these.. I love this pattern, and another said the same about another pair--(a good pattern for first time sock knitters) and everyone loved (but no one claimed) the third pair. I guess I am on to something—some of my ideas are right on target!
Kimberly loved the Violet Blue socks—she (long, long ago, in pre-Ravelry days) knit a pair of gloves with the same yarn.. Very unsuccessful gloves. Not quite a pair (that is, not quite matching)--but 2 gloves that bore some strange relationship to each other.
I reminder her about my first pair of socks (many, many years ago!) They were argyles. Beautiful argyles. Mostly white, with blue and dark maroon red diamonds. They perfectly match a plaid skirt and my (oh, so popular then) “tennis sweater”. The workmanship was perfect. The socks? Stiff and with out a trace of ease or stretch. The legs were so tight, they wouldn't have fit Olive Oyl's match-stick legs –and she would have never gotten even her big toe into the opening! No human could wear these socks.
The Best part? I knit them on DPN's, one sock at a time. The first one I knit was a fit failure, and the second sock, IDENTICAL. NEITHER sock was wearable. A perfect pair—NOT. They looked lovely, but they weren't functioning socks.
It's easy to look at my socks today, and marvel at my knitting skill—but what you don't see are the failures. And there have been failures! Socks that were siblings (not fraternal twins, no where near being identical twins. Sock knit from the same yarn, but almost nothing matched. Not the cast on, nor the cuffs, or body, or toe or size! I have in my time knit socks with different gauge (that resulted in different sized socks)--and made other monumentally obvious mistakes.
I am a good sock knitter (now) , because I have been such a terrible sock knitter—in the past. I know how to do it right, but only because I've had so much experience doing it wrong, over many years.
So for the next day or two, I will be working on secret socks. And thinking about what to knit next.
I need to look at my list—Everywhere yarn is clamoring to be knit--I have to find some plan!