Like a lot of knitters, I first learned to knit socks with Dutch heels–the kind where you knit half of your stitches into a flat flap (usually with slipped stitches to thicken the fabric) and then pick up stitches along the sides of the flap and continue in the round–like this favorite old sock of mine.
This is how I made my heels for decades. They’re comfortable and sturdy, and they’re fun to knit.
There are some annoying things about them, though. They’re really hard to mend. You have to darn them (which I’m terrible at), unravel your whole sock from the toe, or perform sock surgery just to fix one little weak spot. And it’s hard to knit them in a contrasting color. You can make the flap in another color, or make a band of contrasting color that encircles your foot, but you can’t make a cute little wedge of color like store-bought socks have.
Most store-bought socks have short-row heels. I tried short-row heels at some point, but the ones I made were always too tight across the bottom, and wore out quickly. They seemed flimsy compared to Dutch heels. And of course you still have the same problem with repairs.
Then I read Elizabeth Zimmerman‘s instructions for afterthought heels, and went mad for them. They came out more heel-shaped than my short-row heels. And they were so easy to make! And you could knit cute, multi-colored socks with them! And you could put in slip stitches for sturdiness. And anyway they didn’t need to be sturdy, because they were so easy to mend! I could take out a heel and replace it in about half an hour–maybe even in a new color. I made a ton of socks with afterthought heels–or more precisely forethought heels, because I used a placeholder row instead of cutting my stitches.
But over time I noticed that socks with forethought heels don’t really fit me that well. They just aren’t wide enough. They feel tight across the top of my foot, and the stitches get stretched out. Worst of all, the tightness at the top makes some of them want to slide down into my shoes. There is nothing worse than when your shoes eat your socks. I went museum-going in a pair of those socks and drove myself crazy wrenching my socks from the jaws of my shoes all day long.
It occurred to me that what a forethought heel really needs is a little triangle of fabric on each side, like a Dutch heel has. I went looking for improved forethought heel patterns, and I found some with a very small gusset of short rows worked at the corner of the heel after it’s picked up, adding perhaps a centimeter of give. But that didn’t seem like it would be enough. Why not just widen the socks at the point where you plan to install the heel?
So I invented a new and improved forethought heel that simply adds increases as you approach your planned heel location, and decreases as you knit past it. Like most things I’ve “invented” in knitting, I found out later that other people have invented it, too. I mean, of course they have–it’s such an obvious improvement. I just couldn’t find it anywhere. But I enjoy re-inventing the wheel.
And they fit beautifully. So cozy, so sleek.
For extra stay-upability, I made the legs of the longer socks slightly tapered, like they are in vintage sock patterns. I don’t know why that feature has fallen out of fashion. It’s very practical.
After I made myself a pair, I walked the mile or so to the grocery and back, came in the house to take off my shoes, and had the sudden realization that my socks were still on my feet, the heels on my heels, where they were supposed to be. No floppy toe, no heel scrunched up under my foot. I am very happy with them.
So pleased with them, in fact, that I have written a pattern for them (and revised it and had it tech edited and tested).
One of the test knitters posted this about them on bluesky: “The pattern for Monocot socks went up today! Can’t wait to use that ankle shaping on every sock I ever make again.”
My heart is warmed.
There’s more information about these socks on the Looky pattern page, and on Ravelry.
Looky Knits 