A place to rest your weary head...

...if you don't mind a few divots in your face.

Introducing the first and only pillow I've ever made. I plan to make more in the future, but that's just one in a long list of projects on my shadowy "to do someday" list. I have no definite plans.


I made the pillow for my mom. She picked the color to match the decor in the living room. I'm not a big fan of how the stripes came out on the pillow (and I don't think she is either), but it's ok. Mom's too nice to try to hide her new pillow even though it doesn't look as good as we'd hoped; it sits out in a prominent position on the couch.

I used what my pattern book called a popcorn stitch, though I've also seen it referred to as a bobble stitch. I've noticed that no two pattern books seem to agree on what constitutes a bobble and what constitutes a popcorn.

I do think it's interesting that it came out in fairly clear vertical stripes, considering that I crocheted it horizontally. Check how it came out all plaid on the back:



It would have been cool to skip all that silly popcorn on the front and just go straight to the rockin' plaid on the back. The big thing I like about stripy yarn is seeing how the pattern will come out in your project.

The pillow cover came out a little small, so I had to tie the middle button to the button hole to keep it looking nice.

You can't tell from the above picture, but I ran out of yarn partway through. I'd bought the amount that my pattern said I needed to complete the project, but the pattern lied. Mostly the pillow looks fine even though I had to use a ball of yarn from a different yarn lot to finish, but the brown is slightly lighter with the new yarn ball. You can tell below:



Overall I'm proud of my pillow, even though I don't love the color scheme on the front. It's also the first project I've ever blocked. That was an irritating experience because I couldn't figure out how to make my iron steam satisfactorily.

Thinking back on my experience pinning down the pieces of this pillow and arguing with my iron always reminds me of the movie Memoirs of a Geisha. There aren't any similarities at all, it's just that my brother and I had gone to see it earlier that day. As you might imagine, the mental link I have between my pillow and that movie irritates me deeply. Read the book instead. The movie blows.