Yarn Snobbery (In a Word: Ew)
Confession: Sometimes I think I’ve become a yarn snob, and that’s the absolute last thing I want to be.
To be clear, I’m of the opinion that there’s almost no wrong way to be a knitter or crocheter. You do what works for you, and that’s that on that. Make a sweater in acrylic you bought from Walmart, or make a shawl from the finest hand-dyed wool from sheep only bred on one specific mountaintop in Uruguay. Either way, what you make is valuable. You’ve created something that wouldn’t exist without you, and that’s a gift to the world.
My problem comes in when people decide that other people’s way of working isn’t “good enough.” When there’s comments like “This is nice, but imagine what it would look like in a natural fiber!” or “You know acrylic is basically plastic, right?” When people turn up their noses at anything “less” than merino. You know the types. We’ve all seen them. The dreaded yarn snobs. The ones that make others feel less than.
They obviously don’t know (or care) that these thoughts are rooted in classism and ableism. There are allergies to natural fibers that make them unusable for some people. Those with tactile sensitivities can’t use certain fibers, either. People with kids or chronic illnesses may need their makes to be machine washable. Then there’s the price difference - on average, acrylic tends to be cheaper. How many people would be priced out of the hobby they love if they couldn’t use it?
I love this hobby, and want it to be accessible to as many people as possible so they can love it, too. It’s why I price my patterns as pay-what-you-can. If you have even an inkling in your soul that this is something you want to do, I want you to do it with as few barriers as possible. That’s never going to change.
Part of that accessibility, I believe, is seeing patterns in affordable yarns. Now, I’m not saying that designers HAVE to make samples in budget yarns. Nor am I saying that designers should always make more than one sample at different price points - though I, at one time, also considered doing so. (I’m lazy and impatient. Making more than one sample? I’m not sure I could swing it!) But it does help, seeing samples done in affordable yarns so you can have an idea of what your project will come out looking like, and so you can know that you’re not the only one making them in those yarns.
The longer I’m in the game, though, the more I find myself saving up money for luxury yarns. The more I find myself working with and extolling the virtues of natural fibers. The more I find myself gushing over baby alpaca and silk and non-superwash merino. And every so often, I find myself worrying: “You’ve become what you hate. You’ve become a yarn snob.”
Aimee Sher of Aimee Sher Makes wrote an excellent blog post on this a few days ago, which in turn inspired me to think about this one. And it reassures me in the best way. She sums it all up in her title: “Don’t Be a Mean Yarn Snob, OK?”
Don’t be mean. It’s simple. Or, at least, it should be.
It’s alright to have preferences for one type of yarn over another. What’s not alright is shaming or making fun of others for their choices of yarn. Don’t leave comments saying something should have been made in another fiber. None of this “I would never touch acrylic with a ten foot pole” nonsense. We’ve moved beyond that. You know, the whole “if you can’t say something nice…” deal.
I’m not a yarn snob. But I am guilty of falling into that trap at times, talking trash on certain yarns or encouraging natural fibers in my own patterns, and I promise to work on that. I promise to think and reflect on my own privilege before making these statements in the future. But, as a whole, I don’t think I have to worry about being one - and what a wonderful way it is to think! That every yarn has a place and a use and a love about it!
