This stitch has various names. I have heard at least a few — 2D tuck stitch, held stitch, honeycomb. Since around 2012 I have known it as one thing only.
I may have first encountered it a couple of years before that, but by 2013 it had become synonymous with my work. Its origins lie in the mechanisation of knitting during the 18th and 19th centuries. I was not there, but I am glad it happened.
The 2D refers to a single bed tuck stitch, most developed and visible on the purl side of the fabric. A needle holds a loop from a previous row while new yarn is fed in, creating a fold or tuck at the surface. It likely arose from something once considered a mistake, then embraced, then made into a feature.
I have always been drawn to its natural look. It calls to mind a rolled beeswax candle stem. There is depth it creates and holds. It morphs depending on yarn, colour, and ply count. It made more sense to me than single jersey as a foundational stitch. It presents as two tones while possessing only one colour. Architectural and flat all at once. It holds properties of cutting cloth on the bias, translated into knit, which makes it among the most versatile stitches there is. My tailor's headspace appreciates the ability to construct with it. There is an innate loftiness to it, a lightness even when multiple ends of yarn are added. Over fourteen years it has always appeared in my work, both as the most standard stitch, and also among the most adventurous.
The 2D tuck stitch has appeared on all my greatest hits, bar one. For Cardigan Knitwear it works particular overtime: as one of two basic stitches we use, and as the canvas for embroidery framing and holding the crystals and yarn exactly as intended. It carries less vertical stretch, which means a garment holds its shape without growing indefinitely in length, and requires less reblocking over time.
