The joy of rainbows.
I’m about to make a possibly shocking confession. And that is that I am not a fan of variegated yarn. I love a semi solid. But variegated? It makes my skin feel prickly and I feel stressed at the mere thought of it on the skein. Too many colours that I don't have enough control over. I freely acknowledge it is my colour/perfectionism issues at play.
That said, being the analytically minded human that I am, I also know that sometimes I love what I profess to hate, even if it makes me feel uncomfortable. For example sometimes I love variegated yarn knitted up. My friend Kellen recently made a hat out of variegated handspun that is truly beautiful. And I’ve found various examples of it on Ravelry over the years that have thrilled me.
I have the feeling that some of my disdain for it comes from my inability to see it translated from a raw material to a garment. I don’t “think” in variegated.
So that is why my recent agreement to buy, and subsequent purchase of, some variegated yarn has filled me with such glee. I love proving myself wrong. Makes me happy.
Now obviously such a big shift has to involve a big underlying emotional driver. Like many of my past decisions to use fabrics and yarn that make me shudder, this time it was all about a group of small people that love rainbows.
This year for birthday presents I’ve offered to make beanies for my lovely friend Martine’s small people. After a conversation around the kitchen table the other day, it was clear that my preference for tweedy yarns or plain yarns just wasn’t going to cut it. The joy her small girl felt while describing her love of multi-coloured purple just couldn’t be ignored. Note: She wasn’t just talking rainbows (read: variegated) but rather she was also talking “purple”. Another of my scary craft places. Purple just isn’t in my colour palette.
I thought of using scraps and knitting from stash but then the hope on her little face and the knowledge that she would feel loved every time she wore it (or even just glanced at it) made me realise that I was headed to the wool shop to buy some Noro.
And now that I’m knitting with Noro, I can’t stop. It is a yarn of joy. Watching the colours develop from the skein to the hat are filling me with total joy. It is addictive. Stopping knitting feels a bit like I’m trying to stop a magic from taking place. It feels wrong and stupid.
There is also a tactility to Noro that is truly delicious. Thick, thin, wool, cotton, soft, hard, colourful joy. It is always surprising, keeping me eyeballing the changes as the yarn runs through my fingers, becoming a stunning piece of fabric.
Now all that said, I have kind of screwed my lovely friend Martine over. Not only am I knitting her kids variegated hats that she will then have to watch them wear, I have introduced variegated yarn into a home full of small people who now know that it is a possibility. There “could” now be rainbow cardigans, rainbow blankets, rainbow vests. If only Martine would just say yes! Her kids are going to be trying hard and they are a persuasive bunch.
My own poor-neglected-sad kids have always had a blanket “NO” when they’ve asked for rainbow yarn*. What kind of a mean mum does that? Ha!
Do you have craft supplies that make your heart sing? I would love to hear...
Felicia x
* With the one exception of yarn for finger knitting.
