Lopapeysa
An Icelandic sweater ("
lopapeysa ") is actually a hand-knitted sweater made from Icelandic sheep's wool. Traditional Icelandic sweaters are knitted in one piece with a round yoke and a patterned shoulder piece.
Knitted clothes in Iceland
Knitted clothing can be traced back to at least the 16th century in Iceland; it probably came to the island via foreign sailors. At that time, knitting was initially done with tightly spun wool yarn, and the garments made from it were coarse and heavy.
Unspun wool
Around 1900, when farms increasingly lacked workers to spin wool, some Icelandic women began experimenting with the outer coat and undercoat of Icelandic sheep and then knitting this wool unspun (to save time). This gave these knitted garments a relatively large volume with comparatively low weight, provided better insulation, and could also retain more water than other knitwear—thus keeping you warm for a long time, even in Icelandic rain.
Traditional Icelandic sweaters only since the 1960s
Icelandic sweaters, as we know and love them today, have only existed since the mid-20th century, with knitters likely basing their designs on traditional knitting patterns from Sweden or the Faroe Islands. Traditionally, however, an Icelandic sweater is still knitted from the thin, unspun wool of Icelandic sheep, usually using three of these threads at a time. While natural wool was once knitted in the various sheep colors, today the wool is often dyed, allowing for more variation.
The term "peysa"
Incidentally, it's said that the term "peysa" (= sweater) also originates from sailors, specifically French fishermen. They are said to have called the Icelandic farmers "paysan, paysan" (= "Farmer, farmer!"), and the Icelanders misunderstood the word, referring to their thick knitted sweaters, and started calling their sweaters "peysa." I like the story, but many linguists doubt it. The term "peysa" in Icelandic has been documented since at least the 16th century as a term for long tops made of knitwear or fur.
A theory on the patterns of the round yoke
By the way, I once read that the patterns on Faroese sweaters are said to have their origins in the fact that drowned sailors could be identified by their clothing, so each family used its own special pattern. A very practical reason for a visually beautiful tradition...
My current favorite pattern
My current favorite pattern actually comes from a Finnish knitting book for Icelandic patterns, which a German woman living in Iceland also contributed to (somehow, the Icelandic world is sometimes quite small!). The book states that the pattern is "easy to knit," and I actually find it wonderfully simple, and it develops so naturally that all you need to do is glance at the pattern in the book once at the beginning of each row, and the rest of the row practically follows itself. It's wonderfully quick to knit, I think—which is why I've actually knitted it several times now and I'm still thrilled with it.
First attempt - a hooded cardigan in purple and green
After the long winter last year, I was really craving color this spring, so I knitted the pattern for myself as a hooded cardigan, because I've found that I wear that more often than a warm sweater, and I love hoods anyway.
I used a beautiful, light green as the base color, and purple as the second main color—and the pattern is knitted in green, red, yellow, and purple. One more color than originally intended, but I simply wanted a bit more color and more contrast.
This photo is from when I was trying it out while knitting, and my husband had to pose as a model. The jacket has since been given colorful buttons and is being used successfully in Iceland.
Second version - a sweater in purple and grey
For a friend who lives in Iceland, who was already very enthusiastic about a previous sweater of mine and loved the colors (purple and gray), I then knitted the same pattern as a classic sweater (as I said, the pattern knits up wonderfully quickly!), but this time in three colors. I used purple as the main color and light gray and dark gray for the pattern.
Our friend sent me the photos of the Icelandic sweater in its natural setting from a tour of Snæfellssnes. The church in the background must be Ingjaldshólskirkja. The current church building, built in 1903, is the oldest surviving stone church in Iceland. The church is located about 1 km from Hellissandur.
The photo on the left was taken almost entirely under midnight sun; I love that light! Everything takes on a reddish-golden glow, from the sweater to the lupins to the church and the mountains in the background.
The second photo was taken the next day in daylight, so you can see the true colors better. Doesn't the lopapeysa fit perfectly into this setting, amidst the blooming lupins! Ah yes - I love both pictures, each in its own way!
Third version for my husband - in Iceland colors
And because the pattern knits up so quickly, I immediately knitted a third version, this time for my husband – with extra long sleeves. The sleeves that fit me and are comfortable are always too short for him, and then he looks like he's outgrown them – or as if the sweater shrank in the wash. Neither of these is ideal.
This time, it's a classic sweater in a men's version, with long sleeves. The base color is blue and the pattern colors are wool white and red – I just felt like knitting an Icelandic sweater in Icelandic colors.
In this photo, however, I borrowed my husband's sweater for a picture from the special issue of "Magic of the North" about Icelandic cuisine. I thought an Icelandic sweater in Icelandic colors would look really good!
Next time, I'll post a photo of my husband wearing this Icelandic sweater in Icelandic surroundings...
PS:
By the way, my sister has already signed up; she thinks my hooded jacket with its colorful pattern is so pretty. She's already picked out the colors for her jacket, and I already have the yarn here, which she'll knit before next winter!
[Translated from
here.]