I tend to anthropomorphize my yarn. Some yarns are that solid, dependable friend that is always there, waiting, after you come back from the latest fad or hare-brained idea. Some are expensive, demanding, high-maintenance but worth it. Some are wallflowers, waiting their turn patiently until one day, suddenly, you see the beauty that’s been there all along.
And then some yarns march right up to the head of the line, sail past the security guard, sit right on your lap, and look you directly in the eye. “You cannot do anything else until you’ve worked with me,” they say, “because I really am all that.” I met some yarns like that this past weekend. I had wanted to meet Ms. Cleaver for some time, and it seemed like a good thing to combine with a visit to KnitWit to see the new Quince and Co. yarns. I did take some pictures while we were in the store, but as it turns out my kids had smeared their sunscreeny hands all over my lens cover, so everything I took looked pretty psychadelic.
But the company, the shop, and the yarns were all amazing. Someone actually recognized me, as I was browsing, which totally thrilled me after my initial disbelief. Anna, KnitWit’s owner, could not possibly have been more helpful or friendly. And the yarns… Well, let’s just say they back the diva attitude up with some real substance.
The colors are utterly phenomenal, first of all. They’re saturated, they’re rich, they’re completely solid and gorgeous. But the real story, I think, are the yarns themselves. They seem exceedingly hard-wearing and sturdy, but they have the feel of the most delicate merino. They’re utterly, utterly perfectly crafted. I chose both the Chickadee (NO surprise there)
and the Osprey (yes, even though it’s aran weight!)
because they felt like the right combination of softness and sproing for my taste. But I don’t see how you could go wrong with any of the yarns. The Chickadee is already whispering sweet nothings into my ear. I’m less sure what I’m going to do with the Osprey beyond a basic outline in my head. I hope to wear them both to Rhinebeck.
I’m sure the other yarns will forgive me, right? It’s not like I had any choice in the matter.