One of the things I like most and least about owning a yarn store is that much of the time I’m knitting a season ahead. On one hand, it’s fun to find the right project for a new yarn. When I order something new, I think about different things:
Where is it made? Europe? South America? Japan? All okay. China, not so much, for a few reasons.
What fibers does it contain? All natural? Mostly natural? Synthetics for a good reason? Is it nice to handle, and if not, is the fabric it makes worth it?
Does it fill a gap in my inventory and/or do my customers need/want something like this?
What is the color story being told? Neutrals, pastels, jewel tones, multis or all of the above? Babies, kids, grown-ups? Male, female? Serious or silly? Earthy or frothy? And am I letting my bias for neutrals (or, as Karen calls them, mud colors) overtake my decision-making?
And all of this is also informed by what I think the yarn will make.
Will it make a wonderful sweater, and if so, what kind? Sturdy classic, drapy boho, luscious and cozy, light and breezy?
Is it mostly an accessory yarn? To my mind, that means it’s luxurious and probably a bit pricey to make a sweater for most of us, but it will make a soft and lovely cowl, hat or scarf.
Will it make socks that last? a pretty shawl? warm mitts?
Or do I just love it so much that I have to have it, and I’ll figure something out later? That happens more often than I care to admit, because really, after all these years, you’d think I’d be more practical, wouldn’t you?
So anyway, at some point, when the yarn is available, a bag of it arrives, and then it’s really time to knit something, not just dream about it. Once I have the fiber in my hands, all my plans may go out the window.
I swatch for the planned project. Everything is fine. I wash the swatch. Perhaps now it’s not so fine. I go up a size in needle. Bleah. I go down a size in needle. Okay, I like the yarn at this gauge, and washed it’s still fine, but it’s completely not right to make my original idea. Now to Ravelry, and I’m pretty much lost for a couple days. I try something. I rip. I try something else. I rip. And that’s how this
tried to be this
then thought it might become this
but actually became this:
which is a pretty openwork coverup that will be wonderful for those hot, hot days this summer – but knitting it in January was not the satisfyingly cozy knitting that we all crave when winter closes in.
So keep knitting those lovely wools and alpacas, and if I seem a little envious, it’s because, on my needles, it’s linen, hemp, and cotton. Tsk.
