Everything you need to know about knitting a fall capsule wardrobe

Sharing is caring!

This fall, instead of just picking a pretty sweater pattern and hoping for the best, I decided to figure out my style first, and then use that information to decide what I should knit.

This post contains affiliate links, which means I make a small commission at no additional cost to you. Please read my disclosure for more info.

I’ve been on a journey this past summer of learning about fall capsule wardrobes, personal style, color palettes, what works for my body type, and, probably most importantly, my lifestyle.

And somewhere along the way, I realized that all of this information could actually help me with something I’ve struggled with for years: knitting sweaters that I will actually wear.

I’ve been knitting for about 15 years, but I’m mostly an accessory knitter. I knit a ton of socks because I love how quickly they come together, and as a busy mom, I like those faster projects. Sweaters take a long time, and I’ve had enough sweater projects that didn’t quite work to know that I needed a better plan.

Sometimes I’ve chosen the wrong pattern for my style or body type. Sometimes I’ve chosen a yarn color that makes my skin look green or yellow. I’ve made sweaters that were too short, too oversized, too chunky, or simply didn’t fit into the way I actually dress.

Finding My Style

The first thing I had to figure out was what my style actually is.

I’ve always had a picture in my head of what I like. I kept thinking of Kate Middleton visiting a country farm: jeans, a colorwork or cable knit sweater, a longer barn coat, and tall boots.

But every time I searched for that look on Pinterest, I kept getting cottagecore.

And while there are pieces of cottagecore that I like, the whole look never quite felt like me. It was a little too dainty and sometimes a little too costumey. What I really liked was the countryside part, the outdoors, the country walks, the practical clothes, the wool, the boots, the texture.

After going down a bit of a YouTube rabbit hole, I eventually settled on three words that describe what I was looking for:

Romantic. Classic or heritage. Countryside.

And more specifically, romantic English heritage.

That description finally made sense to me. It felt like the difference between simply liking a sweater and actually understanding why I liked it.

I made a mood board from Pinterest, and one of the things I loved about doing this was realizing that many of the things I’d pinned were from 15 years ago. I still liked them and I would totally still wear them today.

That felt like a pretty good sign that I’d found something timeless rather than just following a trend.

What My Style Looks Like in Clothing

Once I had my mood board, I started looking at the actual details.

The silhouettes are mostly long and relaxed. I don’t want cropped sweaters. I like sweaters and coats that hit around the upper or mid-thigh, with an easy fit through the body.

For bottoms, I’m much more comfortable with slim or straight jeans than wide-leg or barrel jeans. I also like an A-line skirt rather than anything extremely full.

The shoulders are soft and slightly dropped rather than sharply tailored, and I don’t really like puff sleeves or anything with a lot of structure.

For sweaters, I like a relaxed fit through the bust and waist, longer bodies, and full, roomy sleeves. I also really love crew necks and cozy collars. I’m not much of a V-neck person.

And texture is a big part of it.

The sweaters I was drawn to were full of cables and interesting stitch patterns. I don’t particularly love how a completely plain sweater can drape on my body, so I like having some visual interest in the fabric.

That was actually a helpful discovery for my knitting because it gave me a much clearer idea of what kinds of sweaters I should be looking for.

The Colors Were a Little More Complicated

This is where things got interesting.

The traditional colors I was seeing in my English countryside mood board were beautiful: oatmeal, cream, taupe, chocolate brown, chestnut, hunter green, tan, and warm ivory.

The problem is that most of those colors are warm.

I’ve been learning about seasonal color palettes, and I’ve landed on True/Cool Summer. That means those warm countryside colors aren’t necessarily the best choices for me, especially when they’re close to my face.

Instead of giving up on the entire aesthetic, I realized I could simply translate the colors into my own palette.

Oatmeal and cream can become cool white or dove white. Warm taupe can become cool taupe or greige. Olive and moss can become slate blue or soft teal. Warm brown can become a cooler chocolate, rosy brown, plum, or berry.

Instead of rust or terracotta, I can use raspberry, watermelon pink, or a soft true red.

And then there are the blues—which are probably the easiest part for me. Cornflower blue, periwinkle, denim, and slate teal all fit beautifully into the look while also working with my coloring.

So my version of the English countryside palette is going to be a little more blue, gray, cool white, plum, and berry.

And honestly, I’m really excited about it.

Turning My Style Into Knitting

This was the part that really changed things for me.

Once I knew my silhouettes, colors, textures, and lifestyle, I could look at my mood board and ask: What can I actually knit?

The answer was pretty obvious.

Cable knit sweaters. Colorwork sweaters. A few simple sweaters that can be worn with scarves. Cable knit cardigans. Boot socks. Colorwork socks. Hats, mittens, and gloves.

But I also started paying much more attention to the actual construction of the patterns.

For example, I don’t want to knit bottom-up sweaters anymore.

I’ve done it enough times to know that I need to be able to try a sweater on as I go. I’m 5’7″, and length is important to me. I don’t want to get all the way to the end of a sweater and discover that it’s too short.

I’m also paying more attention to designers whose style and proportions are similar to mine. I love being able to see a designer wearing her own pattern in a video, rather than just looking at one perfectly posed photograph.

I want to know: What happens when she raises her arms? Can she roll up the sleeves? Does her stomach suddenly show? What does the sweater actually look like when someone is living in it?

Those details matter when I’m choosing something I’m going to spend weeks knitting.

Then I Had to Look at My Yarn

Of course, dreaming about all these sweaters was the fun part.

Then I looked at my actual yarn.

As someone who normally knits accessories, I don’t have endless sweater quantities sitting around. I had a few possibilities, but not enough yarn to make every sweater I had saved.

And I didn’t want to settle.

I didn’t want to say, “Well, I guess I’ll make this one because I have enough yarn,” and then end up with a sweater that was slightly too short or that didn’t really fit my style.

So instead, I wrote down the sweater quantities I actually had, what weight they were and how many yards, and then matched those against my dream projects.

I have Knit Picks City Tweed and Aloft in a beautiful cool white, which I originally bought for the Arctic Light sweater. Unfortunately, I didn’t buy enough of the lace mohair, so that one will have to wait.

But I could potentially use that yarn for the Monday Sweater or the Croissant Sweater.

I also have almost 1,500 yards of Wool of the Andes Worsted in a cool, dark chocolate brown. That opened up several possibilities, including the Black Forest Sweater, which is currently one of my strongest contenders because I love the cables and the neckline.

And then there is my Palette fingering weight yarn, which I have in lots of colors. I’m hoping to use that for Strange Brew and eventually make a colorwork sweater that really feels like my color palette.

I’m not going to make all of these sweaters this fall and winter. There is absolutely no way.

But that’s not really the point.

A More Intentional Fall Knitting Plan

For the first time, I feel like I have an actual plan instead of a pile of pretty patterns.

My fall and winter knitting list is looking something like this:

I also discovered that neck warmers are a thing, which I initially thought was a little ridiculous, and then realized was actually genius.

I love the look of a sweater under a coat, but once it’s cold enough to zip the coat, a scarf can get bulky and awkward. A knitted neck can give you that cozy sweater-and-collar look without all the extra bulk.

That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about when I say I want my knitting to fit my actual life.

I even frogged a shawl I had started because, although the yarn was beautiful, I knew I wasn’t going to wear a giant right-triangle shawl. I don’t use shawl pins, and I don’t want to spend my day draping something over my shoulder and hoping it stays there.

That was a surprisingly helpful realization: just because I like the look of something doesn’t mean I need to knit it.

Knit for Your Season

I think that is probably the biggest thing I took away from this whole process.

In the past, my sweater knitting was a little bit of a “hope and see” approach. I’d find a pattern I thought was cute, use yarn I had, and hope it worked out.

Sometimes it did.

A lot of times it didn’t.

And sweaters take a lot of yarn and a lot of time, so I’m tired of spending both of those things on projects that I don’t love wearing.

Now I want to be much more intentional.

I have my style and my color palette. I know the silhouettes I like, the textures I like, the yarn weights I actually enjoy knitting, and what fits into my lifestyle.

And I think that’s going to make my knitting so much more fun.

It’s still 90 degrees here as I’m writing this, and it has felt more like 105 all week, so I’m not quite ready to start all my fall knitting yet. I actually like knitting with the season we’re in. I want to decorate for fall when it actually feels like fall, light some candles, and let the kids and I go crazy decorating the house.

i’m very excited for these fall and winter cast-ons.

I hope whatever season you’re going into, you’re excited for it. And I hope you live in your season, knit for your season, and enjoy your knitting.

And maybe, if you’ve been frustrated with your knitting lately, take a little time to think about what you actually love to wear.

You don’t have to be a fashionista. I’m certainly not.

But I do think understanding your style, your lifestyle, and even your color palette can be incredibly helpful when you’re choosing what to knit next.

Sometimes the best knitting plan starts before you ever pick up your needles.

Pin It For Later:

Similar Posts