Innesko, eller "fotvottar" ...Part 1

So, I arrived in arctic Norway purposefully a bit underprepared for the elements.  I had no idea, when we arrived in early June, whether we would spend fourteen days or fourteen months here, so I didn't want to overpack.  This has turned out to be a very, very good idea, on many levels.  Since the moment it became clear that Tyler and I were really going to stay here closer to fourteen months, I have been busy thinking of ways to make or scrounge up all the missing pieces of my life.  There are stores here, so procuring things in a conventional way is certainly an option, but most people will tell you Norway is expensive.  This is... true, and not so true, since I am making Norwegian wages now, but nevertheless, I am finding that it much more fun to see if I can work my way around the trappings of traditional commerce.  Necessity is the mother of invention, right?  It seems rather a first-world problem to have to willfully side-step the store in favor of inventing yourself a solution to something like needing a pair of slippers... but this first-world girl really does love the gleeful feeling of having made a thing-- and so I made myself slippers!

Innesko, as they are known in Norway, are indoor shoes or house shoes-- really something more than slippers, as it is not only a comfortable fashion, but a true custom.  Even at the hotels and the public library, visitors are requested to leave their shoes at the door (which people do in quite an appallingly haphazard manner, but that's really neither here nor there).  I am thankful that my socks don't have any embarrassing holes in them, but I still found myself coveting other people's innesko while I padded around the hotel lounge, eating breakfast in my hiking socks.  But did I fall for the tilbud sign next to the innesko display at the butikken?  Nei! Jeg har strikket meg noen!

 A teeny little model of my innesko-to-be.

Oops, they're a little big...

Just kidding!  They fit perfectly!!

I followed this pattern, and it worked like a dream.  The instructions seemed so easy that I actually wasn't sure... but then again, it was too easy not to try it, so I did!  I made that little paper model by cutting out a hand-drawn copy of the pattern and taping it together along the seams, so I could see in 3D how the final product would sew together.  I used that information to create a stylish striping pattern along the insoles.  I had just a little bit of dark red wool left over from Tyler's vottar that I used for embellishment, so Tyler calls them fotvottar (norsk-lish for foot-mitten).  The whole thing, both feet, only took me about a week to knit up-- it's all garter stitch, so you barely have to think as you go.  

So how did they go from big to small?  For anyone who isn't familiar with felting, this is a knitting technique where you use a hot water wash to purposefully shrink your wool-knit creation.  This results in a fuzzy, dense weave, which is perfect for something like a slipper that you want to be really warm and a bit durable.  It's also a bit like a magic trick!  I love this.  I have never felted anything before, as I am usually not a big fan of the aesthetic I associate with felted hats, jackets or jewelry-- I prefer the look of traditional knit for most things.  But now I kind of want to make innesko for everyone I know (and then maybe write a Dr. Suessian rhyming book about it), now that I have tried this fun, simple trick.  But you should try it for yourself, if you are reading this, because it's so fun!  Also, the plus of felting your own slippers is that you can pull them directly out of the wash and put them on your feet when they are still damp, and they will form perfectly to the shape of your foot.  More magic.

I will add that I did a little bit of research on the Internet on the general technique of felting before I threw them in the wash for the final stage, and found the following helpful tips: place the item to be felted in a pillowcase that you can zip, tie or pin shut, to keep excess lint from clogging your machine, and throw a pair of jeans or a towel in with the wash as well.  Something about the extra bulk helps with the process I think?  I was felting in a front-load European washer, which are rumored to be trickier to felt in, but this was no problem for me-- maybe I got lucky, or maybe wool just shrinks in hot water no matter how you load it... try it and see!