There comes a time when every knitter has to
face the reality of The Stash. This spring has been that time for me,
and I tell you, it's been quite the experience. I learned a lot about
myself in the process, to whit: Some people collect little figurines of
cats, some collect shoes, some collect baseball stats. I collect yarn.
Yarn or Art?
Seriously.
My stash is a Yarn Collection. All it needs are little frames around
each skein, with a light shining on the yarn and a printed card off to
the side: "Yarn. 100% silk. Hand-dyed by artisans in Nova Scotia,
Canada. Private collection."
I buy skeins of yarn as though they were little works of art. Do I
buy practical yarns, yarns that would make good sweaters? No. I buy the
unusual, the special, the pretty. When I find a yarn I love, do I buy
enough to make a sweater someday? No. I buy onesies and twosies,
sometimes even foursies, but I do not buy the tensies or twelvesies
required to actually make something for myself to wear.
Just as all collectors do, I specialize in certain types of
collectibles. First of all, there is the obvious Purple Yarn. When I
survey my stash, it is a bit embarrassing how much purple there is. Oh,
sure, there is green and blue and pink (which is dangerously close to
purple in the spectrum) and rose and mint and lavender and lilac. There
are no yellows in Sandi's Stash, no beiges, no reds. Teal is a kind of
blue, so it is well represented. The only orange in sight is the skein
left over from my Tomato, which, if you recall, was knitted in orange and teal somewhat on a dare.
The other type of yarn I specialize in is From Plant or Beastie. I'm
warning you: Do not get between me and the silk shelf in the local yarn
shop. Also do not bother me when I am fondling hemp, linen, tencel,
bamboo, cashmere or anything that once had a relationship with a sheep
or a camelid of any kind. I touched buffalo fiber once. I had to
withdraw my hand quickly, because it was very, very lovely, and very,
very expensive. (If you don't try the drug, you can't get addicted,
right?)
This is all very interesting, but it means I have a Problem. When it
comes time to knit a sweater, I cannot knit from my stash, because
there literally isn't enough yarn there to make one. This is a somewhat
laughable statement to my husband, who, when I explain that I have to
buy yet MORE yarn to make a sweater, looks at the bins of yarn that
represent Sandi's Stash with raised eyebrows. I suppose I could knit a
truly unusual work of art out of several different purple yarns...but
sometimes a knitter just wants to make a sweater, for Pete's sake.
This got me to thinking: How do other folks buy yarn? Do you
buy it for specific projects? Do you buy it because you love it, on the
theory you'll figure out what to do with it later? Are you a yarn
collector, who buys lovely yarns knowing full well you will never use
it all? Do you buy in small quantities, like me, or when you find a
great yarn, do you buy a sweater's worth of it, knowing that someday
the perfect pattern for that yarn will appear?
I'm curious. I'm also hoping that it would make my husband feel
better if he knew his wife's behavior was somewhat normal amongst her
fellow knitters.
So, confess: What are your Yarn Acquisition Habits? Inquiring minds and all that. Leave a comment, because it's Monday, and we all would rather be talking about yarn than doing Monday things, right?
Sandi Wiseheart is the editor of Knitting Daily.
What's on Sandi's needles? A bit more past the hem of the New Skinnier Gathered Pullover.