I've been on a yarn diet since 1st January 2012. That's 140 days without buying yarn.
What is the reason for this self-imposed austerity I hear you cry? What about all the gorgeous yarns out there. Why? Why? Why?
Well this is why:
This is only part of my sock yarn stash. Admittedly some of the yarns photographed here (in a pique of annoyance of the size of my yarn habit last weekend) are leftovers, but never the less I still have a ridiculous stash. There are packs of jumper yarn picked up in sales, those numerous odd balls which I tell myself don't count, and the "oh, I'll treat myself" skeins when volunteering at knitting shows.
Now I'm not denying the yarn does not bring me pleasure. It does. I love colour. I love texture. And I like supporting independent small businesses, but I need a limit. So I stopped.
For the first couple of months I found it hard, in those cold dark days of winter, when someone shares tempting yarn bargains on twitter, or the latest from their artisan dyepot I would click on the link, sigh, stroke the screen, then look at my stash. Looking at my stash soon vanquished those teasing thoughts and here I am, no new stash acquisitions so far this year (except for a tiny amount of gift yarn, but that doesn't count - honest).
Heck, I even managed to resist Bargain Balls.
I didn't set myself a time limit for this stash limitation, though I am going to Woolfest in a couple of weeks so will need to up my resistance levels. Well that or succumb to temptation.
And if I do fall prey to some lovely yarn (probably sock, in a semi-solid orange colour for that is my Achilles heel), I'll say oh well, it's only yarn.
What is the reason for this self-imposed austerity I hear you cry? What about all the gorgeous yarns out there. Why? Why? Why?
Well this is why:
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| Those 'x's on the photo are yarns I've used since taking the photo. I'm sort of using it to keep track of how much of my stash I actually knit with |
This is only part of my sock yarn stash. Admittedly some of the yarns photographed here (in a pique of annoyance of the size of my yarn habit last weekend) are leftovers, but never the less I still have a ridiculous stash. There are packs of jumper yarn picked up in sales, those numerous odd balls which I tell myself don't count, and the "oh, I'll treat myself" skeins when volunteering at knitting shows.
Now I'm not denying the yarn does not bring me pleasure. It does. I love colour. I love texture. And I like supporting independent small businesses, but I need a limit. So I stopped.
For the first couple of months I found it hard, in those cold dark days of winter, when someone shares tempting yarn bargains on twitter, or the latest from their artisan dyepot I would click on the link, sigh, stroke the screen, then look at my stash. Looking at my stash soon vanquished those teasing thoughts and here I am, no new stash acquisitions so far this year (except for a tiny amount of gift yarn, but that doesn't count - honest).
Heck, I even managed to resist Bargain Balls.
I didn't set myself a time limit for this stash limitation, though I am going to Woolfest in a couple of weeks so will need to up my resistance levels. Well that or succumb to temptation.
And if I do fall prey to some lovely yarn (probably sock, in a semi-solid orange colour for that is my Achilles heel), I'll say oh well, it's only yarn.
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