Working the Body Without Counting Yourself Into a Corner
Okay. You've got your first row cast on, your width is set, and now you're going to just keep going, row after row, until the thing is square. This is what I call the body of the washcloth. It's not exciting to talk about, but it's most of the project, so let's get it right.
Here's the part nobody tells beginners: every single row starts with a turning chain, and that turning chain counts as your first stitch or it doesn't, depending on the pattern, and if you don't decide which it is and stick with it, your edges will drift. Mine did. My first scarf came out shaped like a trapezoid because I kept adding stitches without noticing, row after row, and by the end it was about twice as wide at one end as the other. I wore it all winter and told people it was modern. It was not modern. It was wrong.
So let's not do that to your washcloth.
The routine, every single row
- Chain one (this is your turning chain for single crochet).
- Turn your work.
- Single crochet into the first stitch — and here's where you have to make a decision and stay loyal to it: is that turning chain a stitch, or just a chain to get your hook up to height? For single crochet, I treat it as just a chain, not a stitch. So my first single crochet of the new row goes into the actual first stitch of the row below, not into the chain.
- Work one single crochet in each stitch across.
- When you get to the end, count. Same number as last time? Good. Different number? Stop right there and figure out why before you go one more row.
That last step is the whole lesson, honestly. Counting at the end of every row, every time, before you turn and start the next one. Not counting makes you feel like you're going faster. You are not going faster. You're just finding out later instead of sooner, and later is always worse.
Where stitches sneak in (or disappear)
Two spots cause almost all the trouble:
The last stitch of the row. It's easy to skip it entirely, especially if your yarn is light-colored and the stitches blend together. Look for the last "V" at the far edge — that's a real stitch, not just leftover chain. Work into it.
The first stitch after you turn. This is where extra stitches get born, because people work into the turning chain and the first real stitch, without meaning to. Pick one system (I told you mine above) and use it every row.
If your count is off by one, it's almost always one of these two spots. Go back, look at both ends of the row, and you'll usually find it.
About getting it exactly even
I'll tell you something that might surprise you after five lessons of me hammering on counting: for a washcloth, if you come out a stitch or two wider on one end than you meant to, it's not the end of the world. You're not tailoring a suit. You're making a cloth to wash your face with. A washcloth that's a little bit trapezoid-shaped still gets soap on a washcloth-shaped area of your body just fine.
That said — there's a difference between "came out a hair uneven and I'm at peace with it" and "didn't count at all and now it's a triangle." I want you counting. I just don't want you panicking over one stitch. Your mileage may vary on how much this bothers you, and that's fine.
A word about ripping back
If you do find you've picked up extra stitches, or dropped some, and it's more than a row or two back — just frog it. Pull it right out and redo those rows. I know that feels like losing ground. It isn't. Fixing it now, while you can still see exactly where it went wrong, is a hundred times easier than fixing it four inches later when you can't remember what happened.
I once made my husband a beanie that came out too small — not a counting mistake exactly, more of a "didn't think it through" mistake — and it perched on top of his head like a yarmulke. He wore it out to shovel the driveway just to needle me about it. It's still sitting in our coat closet, unworn, a monument to not catching a problem early enough. I could have frogged that thing back to the brim and started over. I didn't, because it was a gift and I was in a hurry, and now it lives in the closet forever. Learn from my hat.
Before next time
Work your washcloth up to about four or five inches — square, or close enough that it doesn't bother you — counting stitches at the end of every row as you go. Bring it next time even if you had to rip a row out twice to get there.