
“Knitting GLOWS with COLOUR and Needlework has Distinction for Spring 1966.” is the headline of the March 1966 issue of Stitchcraft, featuring a new yarn, Patons 101 Double Knitting Courtelle.
“Courtelle” was a synthetic fibre developed in the late 1950s by Courtaulds Ltd, a textile manufacturing company that expanded to include artificial silk (rayon/viscose) at the beginning of the 20th century and went on to produce many different types of artificial and synthetic fabrics, either cellulose-based (acetate, lyocell) or acrylic. Courtelle was an acrylic fibre, 100% synthetic, and featured in many different brands of hand-knitting wool around this time, such as Chadwick’s, Bairnswear (the company was bought by Courtaulds in 1953), Emu or Sirdar in the UK, Sofil, Laines du Pingouin or Georges Picauld in France, Austermann in Germany, Elle, Fiesta or Saprotex in South Africa, Phentex in Canada, and so on. As Patience Horne writes in this month’s issue of Stitchcraft, it was “easy and smooth to knit” (didn’t tangle), “very economical”, and “washes and wears wonderfully” (didn’t shrink or fade). She also claims it was “lovely warm” (pretty sure one sweated in it quite awfully) and “light as a feather” (it was not).
These days, of course we know that synthetic fibres pollute the environment quite terribly in the course of manufacturing, are non-biodegradable and generally not recyclable, and that washing them releases microplastics into wastewater, the long-term effects of which are not wholly known at this point, but certainly not good for human or animal life. Here, for example, is just one very recent and unsettling article about a study published in the journal Toxicological Sciences. To be fair, most of the microplastics found in the study were polyethelene or PVC, which are more commonly used in plastic bags and objects than in textiles, but nylon, used heavily in textiles as well as in other things, was also high on the list.

What to do? I try to avoid buying new synthetic yarn whenever possible. It is not always possible, since many brands and types of wool combine natural fibres with nylon or polyamide. The vintage garments in my closet get worn and used and repaired, washing only as necessary, since the worst thing one can do with plastic is throw it away (doesn’t decompose, can release toxins into air or water if buried or incinerated). One good thing about 1960s and 70s synthetic fabric is that it is virtually indestructible. The dresses and blouses that I inherited from my grandmother or bought in secondhand shops look as new now as they did fifty or sixty years ago, and will presumably keep their bright colour and shape long after whatever environmental/nuclear/zombie or other apocalypse has destroyed humanity. (Maybe the giant radioactive cockroaches will enjoy wearing them.)
Anyway, enough soapboxing and doom. I’m sure you would all rather read about what readers in 1966 could make from this wonderful, evil new yarn! This issue uses it for a “fashion set of 3 garments”: the twisted-rib-and-eyelet pullover on the cover, a “casual dress” in a different type of twisted-stitch, and a sideways-knit pullover for men. All three feature bold and brilliant colours, a hallmark of early acrylic fabrics and in keeping with the bright, fun vibe of a mid-60s spring.




Twisted, textured and lacy pattern stitches show up in the other garments as well, like this update on the “granny” jumper featuring narrow just-above-the-elbow sleeves and a longline body with no extra ribbing or hem treatment, or the tunic-dress with lacy front panel and hem decoration for a little girl.



“Colour for Spring” shows up in a deep gold sweater suit with a chevron pattern made entirely of knit and purl stitches, a short-sleeved jumper in harlequin diamond pattern or a cute stranded hem decoration on a toddler’s “buster suit”. The ever-expanding use of colour photography really makes a difference here — in black and white, the designs don’t stand out, but artfully photographed with matching or contrasting background drops, they really pop.




For those not wishing to follow the pattern and colour trends, there’s a three-piece pullover, slipover and cardigan set for men in smooth beige crepe or brown bouclet, and a “country classic” high-buttoned, stocking-stitch cardigan in DK weight Fiona.



What about that “Needlework with Distinction”? Old-fashioned themes and designs make a comeback this month. There’s an impressive tapestry firescreen and rug with a pattern of early musical instruments guaranteed to “give an air of dignity to your sitting room on those occasions when you have more formal entertaining to do.” Impress your formal guests even more by hanging a homemade tapestry picture of Windsor Castle on your wall! Churchgoers can make a kneeler and prayer-book cover in tapestry, with a floral theme suitable for an Easter service. Spring flowers feature in the Victorian-inspired ribbon garland embroidery for a tablecloth as well, or the simple catkin sprays to be worked on a cushion, tray cloth or placemat.




Last but not least, we have a new children’s serial comic, in which Mark the mouse and Eustace the elephant set out in search of buns. Yum yum.

I love this issue, but strangely, none of the projects speak to me. I will use this month to finish a WIP that has been lying around for ever, namely the cardigan to this “softly fitting” jumper from the January 1962 issue, four years ago. I just need to finish the sleeves and sew some seams, so it should be finished soon.
































































































































































































































































April showers bring May flowers, or so they say. I’ll just say that, after the last couple of weeks of March, that umbrella on the cover of this month’s issue looks really familiar. As does the model on the right — she was featured (with a more flattering haircut) in many issues throughout the 1950s.
to spend your holiday in April or May on the British isles or the North Sea coast, you will definitely want to wear one of the warm, bulky wool garments from this issue. “Jenny”‘s thick, double-knit Norwegian-style jumper and hat, described as “dazzling designs to cut a dash on the beach this summer”, tells you everything you need to know about that.
Happy New Year 2019! Or 1961, if you prefer. January 1961’s issue “starts with a swing” with “lots of colour” and “tip-top designs” like the gorgeous Greenlandic-style sweater on the cover.

Brrrr! November 1960’s Special Bumper Issue” brings us “Colour for the Cold Days” and an extra 16-page pull-out booklet of baby woollies. Sadly, so sadly, the booklet from my copy of this issue has been pulled out long ago and is missing.

Homewares are still in a weird phase. The working woman or baby-boom mum (and those were overlapping categories, then as now) of 1960 didn’t have the time or patience to make too many elaborate Jacobean embroidery pieces or huge, detailed tapestries, especially not right before the great rush to get Christmas presents under the tree, so the focus is on quick, easy-to-make novelties for gifts. The aesthetic sense does seem to get lost a bit, though, if you ask me.
(I notice that Word Press does not recognise the word “chairback”. They have been out of fashion for too many years, I guess, having fallen victim to cheaper furniture, more frequent hair-washings and less