How do you feel about your stash yarn?
How do you feel about your stash yarn? And why do we keep buying when we have a lot of unused yarn at home? These might seem like strange questions from someone who has a natural dye business, but like many of you, I sometimes struggle with the amount of stash yarn I’ve accumulated. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on what my stash means to me now and what it has meant in the past.
At first blush, my stash seems embarrassing and feels wasteful. But when I think about why I have each skein, I see lots of positive reasons – immediate ones like helping small businesses, mostly minority-owned and women-owned, or capturing a tangible memory of a trip or emotionally moving experience. Like most of us, I enjoy buying my yarn in person - I love going to local yarn shops when I travel to see all the colors, feel the yarn, imagine what it could be with the help of samples and recommendations of others in the store. So, sometimes when I go through my stash, or make something from my stash, it brings the added joy of reminding me of a special place, time, or experience.
Michelle adding to her stash at Ca.Fil.Lan in Rome
Other reasons to add to my stash run deeper. Sometimes I have sought comfort from yarn, for example, adding to my stash during a time of “unprecedented” anxiety. This was especially true for me – and I think for many of us – during the pandemic. Just prior to that time, I had the opportunity for a sabbatical in rural France where I learned the joy of connecting to the fiber community on YouTube – first FruityKnitting, and then The Wooly Thistle, and later The Grocery Girls and beyond. These shows introduced me to new yarns, new types of fibers, and new designers. The hosts were also skilled at conveying many qualities of the yarn remotely. The following year when the pandemic hit, increasing my time at home and my need for comfort, I was well-primed to find amazing yarns online, and my stash exploded beyond reason.
When my stash grows beyond my capacity to feel good about it, I feel compelled to do something about it. For me, “doing something” begins with a process of organizing, while reflecting on the path that led me to becoming so overwhelmed in the first place. By going through all the yarn, sorting it into types, and thinking about possible projects and uses, I start to feel more in control, and can feel the joy of being with all those beautiful textures and colors. We recently did this process to create our stash wall in the studio and are working with RoseGoldYarns to curate kits from these beautiful yarns.
The stash wall before all the organizing
(Oh, and there’s more!)
Sometimes the process of organizing and reflecting brings me to deeper understanding. As I was organizing and thinking about my stash early in 2021, a close friend (and family member by marriage) was diagnosed with a fast-growing cancer. As you might imagine, this was another time of increased anxiety, as well as deep reflection and search for meaning in Jackie’s experience. Was I collecting yarn in part to stave off death? With all this yarn, I essentially had “too many projects to die.” Yet we all know that yarn does not save us from death. It does, however, provide comfort. And one of my most cherished memories is knitting quietly beside Jackie in hospice, while she slept in a hat I had made for her. The hat kept her warm, and my knitting kept me grounded in the moment, focused on the feeling of the softness, the sound of her breathing, and the honor of being with someone at this most special time.
Photos above: Jackie in her hat; the start of a shawl in hospice; “Jackie’s Garden” on the day it came off the needles (This is the Pressed Flowers pattern by Amy Christoffers)
My experience with Jackie has changed my life in so many ways. And while I would like to say that I have been permanently relieved of stash guilt, I am human. Feelings arise, and we manage in the way that seems best to us. But being mindful about yarn, reflecting on the meaning it brings, and keeping it organized helps me put my stash, and my love for yarn, in perspective.
Postscript:
Jackie was a knitter. And, after she died, her husband discovered that there was an unfinished sweater that she had been knitting for her granddaughter. I had the privilege of finishing the sweater and carrying her memory forward after her death. No amount of yarn will protect us from death, but yarn can connect us with a deeper understanding of ourselves, and each other, and bring us comfort and confidence in facing even the most daunting challenges.
