A few weeks ago I decided to get started on a stash inventory. I started in a corner of a closet and looked through boxes and put all the yarn info and amounts in a spreadsheet. First of all, let me say, if you think your stash is daunting to look, start putting in a spreadsheet—it’s not for the faint of heart. I’m not even halfway
finished and I have dozens of types of yarn so far. Second, it occurred to me that nearly every skein was bought with a purpose in mind. There are a few sale items, some eBay bargains, a couple of “limited edition” type skeins, and my huge Rowan Cork hoardings, but by and large, all this yarn was bought for specific projects that were never started.
Even with all the unfinished stuff I have lying around, before I knew
it I had cast-on two of those intended projects.
First, I ran across several skeins of Alchemy Lone Star in “Spruce”
that they were practically giving away at WEBS a couple of years ago. And, so, here is my finished Wandering Aran Fields capelet from Wrap Style.
I found several skeins of Misti Alpaca from a long-hibernating UFO, the
“Placed Cables Aran”. I dragged the project out of the bottom of my basket and finished the knitting—just a bit sewing and blocking to go. I think I’m
going to like this, but what was I thinking with the pink?! Misti Alpaca comes in so many gorgeous colors, but this is the one I chose.
Go figure.
I also found the Berrocco Peruvia that was intended for another Nora
Gaughan project, the “Tilted Duster” and started that.
This is a start, but I have a long way to go to reduce the amount of
yarn I have in the house.
For me, it’s become a burden. There are practical reasons, such as, I really don’t have the space for it; and emotional, not entirely rational, reasons—for example, the stash has become a sort of momento mori, reminding me of my mortality because, in a
lifetime, I can’t possibly use the yarn I have plus the yarn I would continue
to acquire—I really don’t want this stuff to be someone’s great thrift store
find someday.
My case against stash (YMMV)
1. Tastes change—e.g., I may have been all about fuchsia at one point,
maybe now I can’t stand it. When your stash starts to span years, this is a danger.
2. The fervor for an intended pattern fades—sometimes you get caught up
in a Ravelry or blog fad, you want to join in and knit that fab new cardi, but
you just can’t get to it at the time (I still haven’t gotten around to a lot)
3. It takes away part of the energy and pleasure of starting a new
project—don’t underestimate the momentum that choosing the yarn for a new
project creates. When you pack the yarn away, you’ve put the brakes on your enthusiasm—maybe just a little, maybe a lot—but it’ll never be the same. (also, aesthetically, yarn that’s been stored in a plastic bin for two years isn’t as nice and perky as “fresh” yarn).
4. And my most controversial statement—it’s not healthy. There, I said it. It’s almost obsessive-compulsive behavior. Sometimes, I feel a bit of a panic—as if there isn’t a endless stream of yarn offerings and if I don’t acquire that particular yarn in a certain quantity RIGHT NOW, I will never have the opportunity again. This is most pronounced with limited edition or sale yarns, but sometimes it’s just the thought that maybe that perfect yarn or perfect color will be discontinued. I must have lived through some sort of sheep plague or boll weevils in a previous life or two.
5. Another controversial statement—economically, it’s stupid. For all the previous reasons plus if you decide to destash, you’re certainly going to sell most of it at a slight loss at least. Also, there are risks with
stashing yarn--insects, dust, moisture, and other damage.
6. Yet another controversial statement—it’s not green—at least in spirit if not in actuality. It’s part of a pattern of consuming more than you need. I’m taking up space in my home. The carbon footprint of a ball of yarn I resell is going to be huge
because it had to be shipped to me or to the shop where I bought it and then
reshipped to the person who buys it from me.
7. It’s a time waster.
8. It’s greedy.
9. It’s emotionally draining—for all the previous reasons, plus the irrational notion in my head that my stash will outlive me.
I’m going to try to work entirely from stash for the foreseeable
future. It’s not to say I will make no yarn purchases, I’m sure I will, but I’m going to go to the stash first for all future projects. Perhaps if I get that inventory finished, it’ll be a lot easier to do that.
Of course, with economic times such as they are, I could probably come
up with a case FOR stash, but I’ll save that for another time.