Voulez vous trichot avec moi?

Yes. Well, never did French as a foreign language in school. Lived in the West Indies, Spanish was the first language of choice. If you got an 80 per cent and over, you were allowed to do French or German. I got 60's. Don't hate. Anyways, thought you'd like to see more Phildar patterns (for those on my list, visitors to my blog who tend to know more English and American patterns). This magazine is out of print. It's Autumn 2005, I think.

The genius with Phildar designs is that they don't try too hard to dazzle. They don't need the purl bands across breast or belly, nor do they need the rivers of lace nor the intrusive lines of cables oddly distorting one's form. The designers aren't slaves to the 'knitting tubes' in the round approach either, nor do they need the fine fine yarns like some designers.
The grandpa cardi is the first thing I'm going to knit! I'm trading patterns for these ones, because the book is out of print. Unfortunately, Phildar didn't start offering their catalogues in English until '06, so I'm just going to have whip out my french/english dictionary and bust a move. My stepson did French in high school, and he's gamely offered to 'give it the old college try' as it were.
Don't you love the neckline of this top? I find the Phildar patterns aren't afraid to open the necklines. The English tend to give it a sort of a 'school marm' treatment, as if showing clavicle is the surest way to being a Scarlett woman. I find the American designers like their 'V' necks, but there's nothing wrong with showing the flesh, because even if you have to wear a top underneath, it's still interesting, and attractive. Sunblock like woah, however, is needed. This is the pattern that set off the yearn for the Phildar magazines. I remember this blogger called Skinny Rabbit knitting this baby, and I wanted it so badly. But although I read her blog, I wasn't a commenter, and you had to (and still have to, I believe) comment like mad. But how many times do you need to hear that "You got mad skillz with the needles, yo." (She does). So, it's eluded me... until now.
Normally, I'm not a fan of turtlenecks, because I have a chest. Not Dolly Parton boobs but I have a chest. I'm on a quest to reduce weight, because I'm feeling sluggish. Off, damned winter weight! Normally, in turtle necks, my boobs look ponderous because of that wide expanse of yarn/cloth without anything to break it up (see? Another reason to love Phildar? They understand the aesthetics of 'the chest'). The yarn is cunning because it's not a solid, more of a dapply feel, so there's the colour broken up already. Then, the sleeves are shortened, so there are layers, so you're not seeing expanse of yarn in another direction. It allows you to do layers and create interest. Then, the crowning touch - the detail of the pom poms to the left. It creates asymmetry, drawing your eyes to the left of the breasts and breaking up the expanse of cloth.
Man, by my descriptions, one would think that I'm a clothes horse. I wish! I'm too poor for that, which is why I knit. I'm also too lazy for that. Dressing well takes a bit of thought for me. I'm not like my stepdaughter who shimmies into anything and it works for her. But she's relatively tall (5'8"), so her limbs are elongated and pretty damned perfect. Or even like Kate Moss - she just throws anything on and it's haute fashion. Too bad that Kate couldn't have brought her magic to the Topshop franchise, because her stuff is cheap!

Right. Off to college. To finish my last assignment.

Law and ethics.

Big whoop.