Darning a sock is one of those things I’ve been meaning to learn for a really long time. I even bought myself a darning egg from Dressew a few months ago, with the intention of finally doing it. But it wasn’t until last week that I finally gave myself the time to figure it out.
The darning egg I bought is made of wood and comes with a long handle. It is fitted inside the sock to provide a rounded surface to stitch against while darning. It’s an object that looks rather weird and puzzling on its own when you don’t know what the heck it is.
I used it to repair tiny holes in five pairs of my socks, and a couple massive holes in a single pair of Boris’ socks. That is six pairs of socks saved from the bin, and given an extension on life.
Learn how to darn socks yourself by following this tutorial.
Ah, darning socks. As a person who knits a lot of socks, I end up with a lot of darning to do, because lovely as they are, handknit socks (at least when I’m the knitter) wear more quickly than the commercial variety. The compensation, as you say, is the saving of the socks from the bin; it’s especially tragic to have to toss handknit ones. I’ve got a few pairs of handknit socks that really can’t be darned anymore: I’m going to cut the feet off those ones and knit new feet in a yarn that contrasts pleasingly with the leg sections. Happy darning.
I love the idea of redoing the part of the knitted sock that can’t be repaired.
Darning socks is a satisfying thing to do. I was motivated to save a few pairs I really liked.