Franklin Habit
@franklinhabit
Author, illustrator, photographer, designer, knitter. American in Paris. Textiles fanatic. Host of Student of Latin, Roman history nut. Devoted fan of The Archers.
The Patreon calendar page for August 2026, featuring the aqua-balletic magnificence of Dolores Van Hoofen and Her Syncopated Poissonettes, is available for your downloading and coloring pleasure at patreon.com/franklinhabit.
The floral repeat of the needlepoint chair seat has achieved full width. This feels like a milestone, so I would like to share it with all of you. I am saving the background (a bright yellow) for dessert. The excellent canvas is from Maison Sajou and the embroidery wool is from DMC .
🎵 Ah ! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira ! Les aristocrates à la lanterne. Ah ! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira ! Les aristocrates on les pendra. Si on n’les pend pas On les rompra Si on n’ les rompt pas On les brûlera. 🎵 -- Revolutionary anthem (still very much in use), first heard 1790 (English below)
Mansplainers of the mid-18th century. Detail from "La Partie de dames" by Michel-Barthélemy Ollivier (c1765). Collection Musée Cognacq-Jay, Paris.
"I could not be more delighted," said Mr Boxe. "I knew she was the ideal choice of portraitist." "Magnificent," said Mr Foxe. "See how she's caught the rakish gleam in my eye. And yours, my dear, yours is the absolute speaking likeness."
[Les earworms de France] 🎵 If I could save fish in a bottle, The first fish that I'd like to stew Is a ray from the bay Who's been turned into such a purée That you don't have to chew.🎵
Yesterday was the last of the seasonal balls at Hôtel de la Marine with 𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘁 𝗱𝗲 𝗕𝗮𝗹𝘀. I put out my accessories and suddenly had the urge to shout "I'm late! I'm late!"
I've done afternoon talks on niche knitting topics for small fiber guilds in out-of-the-way places that drew larger crowds than Trump's carnival. And nobody jiggled their bits in front of the kiddies, either.
It bothers me to what I admit is an irrational degree that I have to crack open a new ball to finish binding off the back panel of the baby jacket, which otherwise fit perfectly into one ball. (There have been a lot of questions about this stitch pattern, so I'm making a video.)
No trouble at all, they happened to be right at hand. Here ya go...
Yes, making this *was* the best possible use of my time while waiting for my morning toast, thank you for asking.
The Pont Neuf, the oldest bridge in Paris, has been temporarily transformed by Parisian artist JR into a mysterious, mind-bending cave. In our 13th "Walk with Me," we follow my favorite route along the Seine, ending with the caverns over the river. patreon.com/franklinhabit
Big love to my friends on Juneteenth ❤️. You've always had my back, I've got yours.
A wild surprise. I knew Knit Stars was in Vichy to film my friend Alice Hammer for the new season. With busy schedules I doubted we'd meet. Then Shelley followed the sound of music--and ended up spotting me in a Quadrille Français being danced by *hundreds* of couples--and she filmed it. 🤯🥰
C'est parti à Vichy. Day One of the Napoléon III weekend was the début for my Second Empire (1860s) day ensemble. The coat was tailor-made. I made the rest (except the hat, which is vintage, and the gloves). I danced in it, strolled in it, bought old books in it. I can't really ask for more.
Smack in the middle of le Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen (aka the Paris Flea Market) there's a vacant lot currently serving as a temporary wild garden. That's where I took this.
[Judgy animals of my neighborhood, an occasional series] When a fashionable dachsund waiting outside a boulangerie looks at you like this, the only thing to do is go home and change.
...assembled, following the test "toile" (in English, a "muslin") created to my measurements for the first fitting. Further adjustments were made, and the tailor will refine the jacket accordingly before the next, final fitting.
Second fitting for the 1860s jacket. I couldn't have made it myself and also sewn shirts, cravats, waistcoat, and trousers; so I took my research to an expert. This time, the handsome fabrics from Lafayette Saltiel Drapiers had been cut and temporarily...
...that the graceful 18th- and 18th-century attitude of holding the fan at bosom level not only draws attention to one's charms, it is also perfect for discreetly drying one's armpits.
Sometimes life in Paris turns into accidental experimental archaeology. I've taken to carrying a fan, and whipped it out at quadrille practice because the room was boiling. I realized...
[Nice animals of my neighborhood, an occasional series] Maman. Maman. Des frites ? Des frites, maman ? Maman, des frites ? S'il te plaît maman, des frites ? Maman ? Maman. Maman maman maman maman frites frites frites frites frites. Maman ?
The view from quadrille practice tonight was awfully pretty and I thought you might like to see it.
First hot day of the season in Paris. Here comes the annual conversation. Me (smothering): Maybe we could turn on a fan? Paris (takes long drag on unfiltered cigarette): Non. Fans make you sick.
I'm always telling my knitting students: annotate your charts, mark your stitches, do whatever needs doing to make the process work for *your* brain. In my case, as I close this sleeve, I have three different reminders to stop before I absentmindedly sew the vent shut.