What do we keep, and what can we let go?

Style and stash when the vibes are all extreme change and upheaval

We all reach for something in times of extreme change and upheaval. Whether it’s a personal upheaval or a societal one, I think the more extreme the change is, the more urgent our reaching.

Sometimes, even though we “know” it’s not good for us, we might reach for things that aren’t very supportive. (Hello, doomscrolling.) I’m trying to shift my habits towards ones that will soothe me more deeply, not just give me a quick dopamine hit. Some days, I’m better at it than others. But I’m learning to put the phone down, spend more time offline, and make more things by hand. My days feel better when I do.

I thrive by slowing down. My brain works best when I give myself lots of quiet time, slow movement, and time spent in nature.

During the pandemic, when the news was coming fast and furious, I learned that the more extreme and outraging the news was, the more quiet time I needed to process it. I’m just not very steady on my feet when full of outrage, grief, or both at once.

One of the habits I’ve had the most success in changing is a tendency to overbuy in times of stress.

I think back to my earliest days of knitting when I had more desire and budget than actual time to knit. Packages of new or swapped yarn would arrive at my house almost daily. Honestly, even as a new knitter, I had a lot of yarn. My appetite for new yarn was ravenous. I bet you can understand. The squish, the sheepy smell, the color, the possibility. I loved it all, and I wanted more. I craved more.

I still have a lot of yarn, and I still buy yarn.

An older view of my studio (from when I had bangs!). The amount yarn on my stash shelves is about the same, and many of these skeins from 2018 are still in my stash.

Currently, there is both pleasure and abundance in my yarn stash.

My stash doesn't overwhelm me—it’s about the same size as pictured above—and I buy new yarn without feeling like I'm hungering for it.

It’s been a wholesale shift for me, and I want to share some of this change's underpinnings with you.

My buying habits started to change only once I paused and asked myself, “Why am I purchasing this yarn?”

What was I feeling when I clicked “buy?” What was I feeling when I felt drawn to scroll? What did I feel when the yarn arrived? What did so much yarn mean to me, especially when I saw it in my stash?

I started to realize that I buy supplies when my making time is limited. It’s a way to participate in the crafts I love when I don’t have time to do them. When I feel limited or restricted in time, I hunger for feeling abundant. And that leads me to purchase an abundance of yarn.

I started to toy with the idea: What might it mean to feel like to have enough yarn?

For me, it turned out that “enough” wasn’t a specific number of skeins or X projects planned in advance. It was a feeling.

I like feeling that I have a well-curated selection of my favorite yarn weights and bases in my favorite colors so that when I’m captured by an idea or pattern, I can select just the right thing, right then. I also want to have just enough so that I can enjoy adding something special to my stash in a favorite weight, wool blend, or color, without tipping into overwhelm. Because buying yarn is joyful. Finding a pattern, yarn, or combination that feels like me feels gorgeous. It’s like being seen and being loved all at once.

My most recent purchase was a skein of pink speckled yarn, bought in Alexandria, Virginia, when I was visiting my Grammy on her 100th birthday. Do I have pink speckled yarn in my stash? Yes—many skeins of it, actually. I love pink speckled yarn. But I wanted a skein to mark the occasion and to make myself a commemorative pair of socks. So I bought it. And I smile with delight when I see it in my stash, waiting for its turn on my needles.

How do we hold onto a feeling of abundance, especially during extreme change?

No one wants to go into debt for yarn. No one wants to overbuy. And, likewise, no one wants to feel deprived of buying a small treat that will bring them pleasure.

These thoughts often swirl around for me when I look at my finished projects, too, and the idea of abundance underpins my Swap Shop community event.

How many shawls are enough?

How many handknit sweaters are enough?

What would it feel like to let go of the things that no longer dovetail with your body size and style?

Learning not to overbuy—whether that’s yarn, kitchen gadgets, toys, clothes, or lip glosses—has been a journey for me. It started with pausing before buying to ask myself, “Why am I buying this?” And it continued with asking myself, “What would it feel like to have enough?” Only then could I see if those two things felt right together.

Most recently, the pink speckled skein was a yes. Having it felt joyful and enough. The perfect peach lip gloss? I said no and closed the browser window because I already have enough.

I currently own fewer handmade sweaters than I ever have (I’ve given away, gifted, or swapped so, so many). But I also have an absolute abundance of handmade sweaters. The number doesn’t matter because I feel like I have enough.

Other things that help:

• Limiting my time on social media. I enjoy what I have a little more when I see fewer “aspirational” pictures.

• Letting go of things that no longer feel like me. I’ve rehomed many sweaters and destashed so much yarn in my knitting life. It’s been freeing to let go of things that no longer feel like me and to see only perfect fit and perfect choices in my sweater drawers and yarn shelves.

• Asking myself “why”: I must admit that many of the “low buy” vibes these days feel like diet culture, with a judgment hidden in them. The truth is that shrinking one’s stash is not morally good. Small is not better. A yarn purchase doesn’t have to be earned. It doesn’t have to be hidden. Yarn is morally neutral. It is a craft supply.

The idea of “having enough” underpins my Swap Shop. The inaugural event was last year, and it was deeply moving.

Before the first round, I wasn’t sure the idea would work—had I thought through all the contingencies? Would people offer items that were “good enough”? Would the recipients be happy with what they claimed? Would there be enough interest in it, or would it feel like a sad online charity shop?

Turns out, none of these fears came true. The opposite did.

The Swap Shop felt like an abundance.

People rehomed some of their most beautiful work—sweaters that I am still thinking about, made with high-quality wool, hand-dyed yarns, and exquisite workmanship. I seeded the Swap Shop liberally with my own items, and my friend and knitting colleague, Tyne Swedish, contributed some of her work. My fellow San Franciscan, Karalee, contributed two gorgeous sweaters. And you, paid subscribers, followed suit with stylish sweaters, cowls, shawls, and hats. Beautiful yarn, beautiful workmanship, all in the spirit I had hoped for. These were items that didn’t fit you or your style anymore, but they did suit someone else here. They went, carefully and lovingly, to new homes and now have new lives. Instead of being in the back of your closet, they are front and center for someone else. They are helping someone else to feel like they have enough, and maybe even more than enough—an abundance of choices.

It also turned out that running the Swap Shop was easier than I thought since a lot of it is what I’m already set up for (making listings, taking photographs, shipping things). I worried that it might feel enervating since it’s not “creative,” but it actually feels like the opposite: it gives me happy energy and feels like community organizing. I’m still not quite sure why, but the Swap feels fundamental to the kind of change I hope to see in the world, and it makes me really happy to be at the center of it.

If the idea of participating in the Swap Shop appeals to you—whether it’s to contribute an item or claim an item— I hope you’ll join us as a paid subscriber. We are creating more, here, than just a knitwear exchange. We are connecting to each other in a way that feels more meaningful than scrolling through an Instagram feed, and we are starting with shared liberal values and an ethos of care.

A few closing notes on how the Swap Shop works and when it will open:

• The best way to describe this idea is that it’s a free eBay for knitwear. Every item is offered for free, and the recipient pays for shipping.

• Because the recipient pays for shipping, everyone worldwide can be included.

• I haven’t yet received a crochet item, but crochet is absolutely wholly welcome!¹

• If you want to contribute an item, there’s still time! Join us as a paid subscriber and fill out this form.

• If taking measurements and a photograph feels daunting, you can purchase my concierge service. (This is the last week I’ll have concierge service open.)

• If you want to be part of things (for contributing or claiming) but funds are tight, you can request a community-supported subscription by asking for it here.

Most of my Sunday letters have a natural endpoint, and I’m afraid this one doesn’t. 🤷🏻‍♀️

So, I just want to say that I hope you can buy new yarn or other things with joy and not overbuy. I hope you feel like you have enough and, even more, that you have an abundance.

As always, I hope you can spend a little extra time knitting, crocheting, or crafting this week. It will feel good. Promise.

1. I’m still looking for the perfect word to include knitted and crocheted items. “Finished object” doesn’t quite cut it, so (for now) I’m using the term “knitwear.”