I’m going to be controversial here, again. First, I want you to imagine something. We’ll call this Scenario A:-
Imagine, you were in the LYS, and you saw the most stunningly beautiful skein of wool. ‘Twas gorgeous, wasn’t it? Pure cashmere, homespun, dyed with love and care. All those rich autumnal colours blended in just the right proportions. Curled tightly in its skein, red tumbled into sage green, and when you squished it, you glimpsed a flicker of orange amongst its browns. Admit it, you were in love.
So, you parted with hard-earned/sneakily-stolen/fortuitously-inherited cash and you bought the amazing yarn, and then you carried it home on the bus, or perhaps Jeeves chauffeured you home in the Bentley that day, and all the way you were smiling, just to know that so much beauty was yours.
And when you got home, you cast aside the afghan you’ve been diligently knitting for your grandmother, and you started to knit the beautiful yarn. Maybe you made a scarf – something simple because a wool this wondrous does all the work itself.
And then you tried it on.
And you thought… “Meh.”
Because the thing is, the beauty of the yarn was displayed with unsurpassable perfection in the ball, and now… well it’s just a stripy scarf. A pleasant stripy scarf, but it is no longer a thing of perfection.
(I’m not posting pictures here, because I don’t want to offend/libel any yarn producers.)
And now, consider Scenario B. You see some yarn. It looks nothing special, nothing you’d want to knit/crochet with. A bit of a cacophony of colour, designed in the dark by someone high on amphetamines. So you pass it by.
But then, you happen to see something knitted in this yarn, and you browse Ravelry and see some more, and you realize that this is the ugly duckling of the knitting world, and knitted up, it miraculously just works.
Or is it just me?
Scenario B is a recent one for me. I have some Adriafil Knitcol, an Italian 100% merino DK. It looks like this:-
And also like this:-
Yeek!, I hear you thinking. And I probably wouldn’t have bought either colourway if I hadn’t spotted the shade card and realized that all those jarring, shouty colours settle down to work their aesthetic socks off when they’re knitted, and that those funny stripy bits turn into pleasing alternating stitches of red and white that break up the solids nicely. So the ugly duckling becomes a swan, and we have one jumper for the twinnage in progress, with another planned:-
And I’m learning a lesson about not being seduced by beautiful skeins of loveliness.
Have any of you had the same experience?