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Review: Louet Victoria

Christmas of 2006 brought me a Louet Victoria wheel, given to me by my son. I’ve now spent five days treating it as my primary wheel, and putting it to the real-life Abby test. Read on for a comprehensive review.

The Simple Facts

The Louet Victoria, or S95/S96, is the latest wheel from Dutch wheelmaker Louet, whose wheels and other fiber equipment have been well-received over the past several decades by a wide range of fiber artists. Key elements in Louet wheel popularity are modern design and materials, terrific durability, and ease of maintenance. However, some handspinners (including myself) have found Louet wheels to be somewhat limited in versatility for one major reason: they have always been bobbin lead. That changes with the Victoria, a lightweight portable wheel which is also Louet’s first flyer lead / scotch tension offering.

Louet states that Victoria is as of this writing the lightest and most compact portable spinning wheel on the market, an audacious claim but one which appears to be accurate. Lighter than all the competition at about 10 pounds even in the carry bag with all accessories, the Victoria folds up to be slightly taller than the venerable Bosworth Journey Wheel, but also a little thinner. Securely stowed in a well-designed carry bag which can be used as an in-hand tote, tote with shoulder strap, or backpack, the Victoria is a no-brainer to fit in an airline overhead bin, and possibly under the seat in front of you. Victoria’s carry bag secures and pads the wheel and lazy kate and bobbins quite well, and features a capacious exterior pocket which could easily accommodate a number of additional bobbins and several pounds of fiber. If you can carry around a typical laptop bag, you can carry around the Louet Victoria.

As of December 2006, the new Louet wheel comes standard with three drive ratios, 6:1, 10:1, and 14:1; Louet says that a high-speed kit will be available in the first half of 2007, allowing ratios higher than 20:1. Louet’s web site lists the S95/S96 at 3-3.5 kg (6.5-7.5 pounds) with a folded size of 13.5 cm thick, 30 cm wide, and 47.5 cm tall (that’s 5.375 inches thick, 11.875 inches wide, and 18.75 inches tall). The Victoria in its initial sales phase comes with the carry bag, 3 bobbins, and a 2-bobbin lazy kate, and retails for $550 US, although vendors indicate that the price is expected to increase to the $700 US range following the initial round of sales. It is available in beech (S95) or slightly heavier oak (S96).

Louet Victoria from the flyer down

Bobbin Lead? Flyer Lead? What?

Simply put, bobbin lead means that what is driven when you treadle is the bobbin, so the bobbin is the first thing to move, and the flyer (which turns separately from the bobbin) follows after. Braking action is applied to the flyer, often with a leather band across the orifice. On a bobbin lead spinning wheel, a drive band connects the drive wheel and bobbin, causing the bobbin to turn when the drive wheel turns. This type of setup is sometimes called Irish tension.

On a flyer lead spinning wheel, a whorl attached to the flyer is connected via a drive band to the drive wheel, and the flyer is the first thing to move. Braking action is applied to the bobbin, which turns independent of the flyer. This type of setup is often referred to as Scotch tension.

On a flyer lead wheel, it is possible for a spinner to easily reduce the tension, or strength of pull-in and takeup of spun yarn on the bobbin, to near zero, enabling the spinning of extremely fine yarn and short stapled and fine fibers. This very light takeup is much harder, and in some cases impossible, to achieve with bobbin lead. Many handspinners who prefer to spin very fine yarns therefore shy away from bobbin lead wheels, opting instead for flyer lead wheels, whether scotch tension or double drive. This being the case, lace spinners have often rejected Louet wheels simply on the basis of being bobbin lead (though many Louet owners have found ways to reduce the takeup on their wheels and spin yarns that are quite fine).

The Setup, and the Technical Dirt

Nothing about the wrapped present under the Christmas tree said “spinning wheel” to me, even when my family gleefully urged me to shake the present and try to guess what it was. Wrapped in its original shipping box, it weighed under 10 pounds (or under 5 kg), the package was maybe 8 inches (20.32 cm) thick, and nothing rattled or sounded like bobbins or moving parts, at all. Mind you, with the wrapping paper off, the telltale LOUET packaging with details on the wheel on the end, shipped from a fiber shop I know well, were dead giveaways.

Opening the shipping box, out slid the wheel packed securely in its zippered nylon carrying case. Unzipping the top flap and opening it, printed instructions leapt right out at me explaining the sequence in which to unpack it. Held in place by two nylon straps with backpack-style buckles, as well as fitted holes and light padding secured to a flexible but sturdy backplate, it was impressive to see what all fit in the carry case neatly. Following the instructions, I removed a bobbin from its secure holding place, unbuckled the first of two nylon straps, gently pulled a knob that held the wheel in its folded state and swung the back bar with drive wheel and whorl upright, at which point that same knob clicked smoothly into place holding the wheel upright. I unbuckled the second of the nylon straps, lifted the wheel out by the leather loop across the top of the back bar (a carrying handle!) and placed it in front of the chair where I intended to spin, noting with surprise that it was only a little more than knee high, and made my nearby Majacraft Suzie Pro look like a hulking behemoth. I looked in the bag for the flyer, then realized (yes, I went back to the instructions!) it was secured in a nylon bushing under the left treadle.

Victoria flyerThe three-grooved Louet whorl is made from a lightweight metal which appears to be powdercoated black, and is mounted securely at the top of the hinged back bar. At the center of the whorl is a slot into which the flyer shaft fits, aided by a magnetic lock; to remove the flyer for changing bobbins or to pack up the wheel, you hold the whorl steady and pull towards you on the flyer and bobbin, and they simply snap out of place (but don’t forget to watch out for your brake band). The entire flyer comes off, shaft included — this is similar to how the Ashford Joy flyer assembly comes off, for those familiar with that. In lieu of a more traditional mother-of-all and maiden bar, the Victoria has a small wooden piece which extends out from the back bar under where the flyer goes, and it is this piece which houses the scotch tension mechanism. As supplied, the scotch tension setup consists of a long spring at left mounted to a peg, with a monofilament that you then route over the bobbin groove, under a hook at right, and forward to where you insert the tubular tensioning knob into a hole in the aforementioned wooden piece. The flyer operates independent of any friction bearing, similar to Majacraft flyers or, again, the Ashford Joy.

The flyer itself is made from the same wood as the wheel (mine is oak), including the flyer arms. Stationary hooks are placed on either side of the orifice (which is also a lightweight metal with an apparent black powdercoat covering), and flyer hooks are nylon rings with metal loops. Bobbins have end caps made from medium density fiberboard (MDF) with a veneer matching the rest of the wheel (one end grooved for the brake band) which contain nylon bushings, and the core appears to be nylon or plastic.

The drive wheel, the widest part of the entire Victoria, measures a full 14 inches (35.56 cm) in diameter — just a tiny bit larger than the drive wheel on the Suzie Pro, to my surprise. It is also made from MDF with a matching wood veneer, very seamlessly done. It is my opinion that MDF is in many respects functionally superior to solid wood for things like drive wheels, due to its uniformity of weight. However, MDF is not particularly attractive; the veneer solves this problem nicely.

One single footman rod connects to the drive wheel using a nylon cup that snaps on and is secured in place by a nylon ring that you slip down to the end of the cup; you must detach this in order to fold the wheel. It actually detaches easier than it attaches, and it is this piece which I would expect to see wear out and need replacing the soonest — but no guesses how long that might take, and it would depend on how you use the wheel as well.

Full bobbin!The single footman rod connects to the right treadle; a wooden seesaw bar connects the two treadles. Each treadle is hinged near the bottom (where your heel would go) but not all the way at the bottom; this allows for a heel-toe treadling action, or a light touch with the ball of your feet further up the treadle. It is entirely possible and comfortable to operate the wheel using either foot, or both feet. Treadles are placed fairly close together, and are slightly longer and wider than my feet shod in women’s US size 8 (metric/European 38) shoes.

To pack up the wheel, you detach the flyer, remove the bobbin, and place the flyer shaft into the nylon bushing beneath the left treadle, flyer hooks facing up. Pick up the wheel and place it into the carry bag so the feet slip into their little holder spots, secure the first strap over the treadles, and twist on the footman rod to detach it from the drive wheel. Pull out the small knob at the hinged back bar’s base, and fold the back bar down — the knob will snap into place automatically when the wheel is fully closed. Secure the second strap across the wheel, place one bobbin in its elastic loop holder and the lazy kate with two bobbins on it in its spot in the carry case, zip up, and you’re done. Setup and pack-up both take 2-4 minutes tops.

The Road Test

In five days, I spun a range of fibers and types of yarn which I felt would represent a fairly broad spectrum of spinning, though focusing in particular on what has always been the Achilles heel of Louet wheels, extremely fine yarn. Because the highest ratio presently available is 14:1, I excluded cotton from my tests for the time being. I put both spinning and plying to the test, as well as the lazy kate, and specifically looked for idiosyncracies, quirks, and limitations.

Let me start by saying that I am largely a spinner of very fine yarn; I’m also a very fast drafter who likes to spin at very high ratios, even for types of yarn which most people spin at lower ratios. 12:1 is about as low a ratio as I typically spin at, so the Victoria’s default top ratio is on the low end of what I like to spin with personally. I’m also an admitted flyer lead aficionado, and someone who spins for sometimes as much as 10 hours in a day. Lastly, I have bad knees due to a hereditary issue that results in very easily dislocated kneecaps, particularly with uneven fatigue (so I no longer drive stick, run, or spend really long periods of time with single treadle mechanisms).

All three bobbins were equipped with a loop which worked well as a leader to attach a yarn for plying; for spinning though, I prefer a fairly long leader, so I tied a length of other yarn to the loop (with an open loop, so as to be able to replace it easily when/if needed). Threading the leader through the flyer hooks and orifice was a breeze; with the openness of the metal loops in the flyer hooks, and the length of the opening atop the orifice tube, no hook was really necessary at any point. Sliding flyer hooks which are also able to be twisted around on the flyer arms are a major selling point for any wheel in my book; this allows me the most fine-grained control of my wind-on, enabling me to fill bobbins completely while really fine-tuning draw-in as well. Sliding flyer hooks, preferably adjustable in the sense that they can be rotated on the arm, are a personal requirement for me for any production wheel. I also find there are advantages to be had from not needing a hook to thread a flyer and orifice; first of all, no hook to lose, and second of all, no hook to find if you need to rethread it due to a break or what have you.

Boucle on VictoriaThe Victoria’s orifice height is the lowest of any wheel I can recall spinning on! Seated on a typical sofa, the orifice is just barely above knee height. However, it’s angled up slightly, and the orifice tube itself is long. To my surprise, the lower orifice height actually proved beneficial, lengthening my potential drafting range and the distance between my hands and the orifice, compensating more than I anticipated for a top speed slower than is my usual choice.

Expecting that there would be at least a little break-in, I opted to start with a fairly pedestrian yarn: I took about half an ounce of commercial merino top, split it roughly in half, and spun it from the fold into a single that felt comfortable with languid treadling at the medium ratio. I put half on one bobbin, and half on another, and then put those onto the lazy kate / bobbin holder and plied them onto the third. This allowed me to check out each bobbin and give them all a chance to get a bit broken in. Each bobbin had a tiny bit of a tendency to grab the monofilament at first. After verifying there was no abnormal wear on the monofilament, and no definite burrs or anything like that on the bobbins, I simply spun away.

On the initial runs for each bobbin, there was a mild tendency to catch the brake band; however this was gone by the time I had about 75 yards of yarn onto the first, and eliminated with a tiny bit of wax on the second, down in the groove for the brake band. The problem was more marked on the initial plying run; as suggested by the instructions that came with the wheel, I rerouted the brake band so that it included a cross (meaning that the direction of spin was opposed in relation to where the spring on the brake band is located). This did make the scotch tension more responsive; however this particular bobbin also made a little bit of a whirring-scraping noise. Having encountered that before on other wheels, I applied a tiny drop of spinning wheel oil directly to the bobbin groove while plying. I suspect that changing to an all-cotton brake band would also eliminate any such noise. When the monofilament wears out, that’s probably what I’ll replace it with.

The scotch tension knob is pretty sensitive, though it could turn a little more smoothly in its hole, to facilitate minor adjustments. I’d like to give it a little longer to break in than I’ve given it so far; in another week or two, if it doesn’t turn a bit more freely, I may try a tiny bit of beeswax on it.

Treadle action is incredibly smooth and easy; I was able to operate the wheel with ease while sitting in a rocking recliner, without causing myself to rock! By the time I was done plying the first yarn, there was a mild squeak coming from the treadle area. This took me a while to track down; however, to track it down, I picked up the small, lightweight wheel and operated the treadles with the wheel essentially laying in my lap and my ear to it while watching things move. It turned out to be the pin connecting the footman rod connector to the right-hand treadle, rubbing against the wood in the footman rod at one particular point during the stroke. I ran a super-fine emery board through the crevice and applied a single drop of synthetic lubricant (I’m sure beeswax would have worked equally well). This squeak would, I’m sure, have worked itself out in another few days of break-in.

Boucle spun and plied with Louet VictoriaWhen treadling at over 100 treadles per minute — not a speed you’d sustain for long! — I did manage to get some vibration and wobble from the wheel. Short of that, however, nothing — and the wheel did not walk or slide on a hardwood floor at normal speeds, and did very well with being placed on a somewhat uneven surface.

So how does Victoria travel? Well, I packed it up and took it with me over to the in-laws for Christmas dinner, and spun there for a while as well. Since we were also taking presents and part of Christmas dinner, vehicle space was a little limited, and the wheel rode on my lap in its carrying case, outside pocket containing my small carry-around bag (don’t call it a purse! it mostly carries my spindle and fiber!), a pound of Falkland top, and about 3 ounces of fresh sock batt seconds. Setup, spinning, and packing up were completely unobtrusive.

By the time I was done with the second yarn (sock yarn from my own blend), I’d found one more idiosyncracy, which in truth only gave me greater appreciation for the attention to detail Louet put into this wheel. The brake band attaches to the scotch tension knob with a small screw, and the flyer hooks’ nylon rings are 2, maybe 3 mm thick. In one specific position, it is possible to get the nylon ring to touch that screw on the scotch tension knob, making a very quiet clicking sound! This did not interfere with operation at all while spinning, even spinning very fine yarn; and moving the flyer hook or turning the tension knob the tiniest increment eliminated it. This discovery came close on the heels of me concluding that it wasn’t a good idea for me to adjust the scotch tension brake band while the flyer was in motion (ow). Later, packing a bobbin to the max with plied yarn, I did manage to run across the slight clicking again and knock the tension knob loose; a minor surprise, but a total non-issue, something I mention only to illustrate just how carefully fitted this wheel is; you literally could not pack more into the space available, and the engineering and fit and finish are exceptional.

Discovering that, though, caused me to really look closely at the layout of the wheel. Clearances for all moving parts really push the limit of what you can pack into the space available. I wouldn’t have thought that it was possible to get good operation out of something with such tight clearances; in places they are even tighter than the Journey Wheel, which for me sets the standards in “packing a lot of function into a tiny package.” That said, though, you could say one limitation the Victoria will have if used as a primary wheel is that there’ll never be a jumbo flyer; the flyer provided is as large as you could get on there. However, this is not a major limitation, as bobbin capacity is more generous than I’d have expected, being similar to if not greater than that of a standard Ashford bobbin when pushed to the limit, even with bulky novelty yarn wound on pretty loosely.

Victoria lazy kate

Untensioned on the flyer shaft, the bobbins do make a rather annoying squealing sound, which the instructions do mention and explain is normal; they did so as well on an untensioned vertical lazy kate as well as an untensioned horizontal one with metal shafts, but did not do so on my Will Taylor tensioned (also vertical) lazy kate. The bobbin rack/lazy kate supplied with Victoria holds the bobbins only by the ends, and is totally silent. To my surprise despite its light weight, it was also extremely stable and didn’t have a tendency to scoot around, due to good-sized rubber feet. Yarn wound off the bobbins on it very smoothly when plying even at varying speeds such as for the boucle, and the lazy kate didn’t slip even when I wound skeins from it very quickly. Winding one skein, rather than taking the bobbin off and carrying it over near where I usually skein my yarn, or carrying my skeiner to the wheel, I simply carried the Victoria to the skeiner — and imagine my surprise when I realized that the Victoria, set up and with a full bobbin on it, was noticeably lighter in hand than my freestanding Fricke floor skeiner!

How Does It Stack Up To Competition?

Journey Wheel, Louet Victoria, Majacraft Suzie Pro

For usability and scope of capabilities, I would rate it as roughly similar to a Journey Wheel, but lighter, though it takes longer to set up and pack up, and lacks double drive or a single treadle option, and larger-footed spinners may find it cramped in the treadle area as a result, even though it can be worked with only one treadle easily. Ergonomically the wheel is excellent, and extremely low impact, with smoothness and ease of treadle action comparable to most wheels in the $700+ range. It lacks the sheer bobbin capacity and versatility of a Majacraft wheel, but is substantially smaller than most and lighter even than the Gem. Compared to the Lendrum, it’s faster to set up and take down, but not as versatile in terms of speeds, though I found Victoria’s flyer design is a little friendlier. Smaller, lighter, quieter and smoother in operation than the Ashford Joy, bobbin capacity for the Victoria is similar if not larger than Ashford’s standard bobbins, in part due to sliding flyer hooks which enable the spinner to fill the bobbin evenly.

Fine 2-ply yarn spun with VictoriaI spun 6 yarns with equal ease and comfort, encountering real limits only when spinning loose camel down into fine yarn; for my liking when it comes to down fibers, I just want more speed than Victoria can provide right now. I expect the high speed kit will remedy this when it becomes available in 2007. As a longtime critic of bobbin lead, and someone who has ruled out a number of very nice Louet wheels for myself in the past, I can absolutely say those issues do not exist with the Victoria, as evidenced by an 11-gram, 195-yard skein of approximately 7500 ypp 2-ply tussah silk (pictured at left, the finished 2-ply yarn wrapped around the edge of a penny).

The Actual Opinion

Yarn from 5-day test of Louet VictoriaThe bottom line is that I’ll use the heck out of this wheel, and would recommend it as a travel wheel for any spinner, and as a primary wheel for spinners with limited space. I would also rate it highly for spinners for whom ergonomics are at issue. If spinning down fibers or cotton are your primary goals, wait and see on the high speed kit; if super-bulky is your main thing, you might prefer a larger wheel. However, if you’re looking for all-around versatility in a tiny, lightweight package, you can’t go wrong with Louet’s newest wheel, which I also expect to be entirely maintenance-free after break-in, needing nothing more than a very occasional replacement of scotch tension brake band. And if you’re a flyer lead fan or super-fine spinner long disappointed in bobbin lead wheels, this is the wheel you’ve wished Louet would make.

Here are the yarns I spun during my 5-day road test of the Louet Victoria S95/S96:

  • 2-ply white fingering/light sock weight yarn, from commercial merino top: 18 grams / .625 oz, 125 yards — 3200 yards per pound
  • 2-ply pink sock yarn, from Franquemont Fibers sock blend (superwash merino, mixed silks, kid mohair, nylon): 68 grams / 2.375 oz, 370 yards — 2500 ypp
  • 3-ply orange bulky yarn, from Franquemont Fibers Luxury Batt (merino/falkland/tussah silk/firestar nylon): 88 g / 3.125 oz, 205 yards and 68 g / 2.25 oz, 150 yards — 1000 ypp
  • 2-ply green threadweight tussah silk, from Franquemont Fibers “Sea Foam” colourway: 12 g /.42 oz — 7500 ypp
  • Green boucle, Franquemont Fibers luxury single (merino/silk/firestar) with handspun tussah silk first binder and commercial nylon second binder: 18 g / .625 oz — 60 yards, 1500 ypp

For more photos from my 5-day test, including larger, higher-resolution photos, you can take a look at my Louet Victoria Road Test Photo Gallery.

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Christmas Knitting Done in the Nick of Time!

This year, I hadn’t planned on any knit, crochet, or woven Christmas stuff. And usually when I do make such plans, they’re for crochet items, which are significantly faster. But then, as it happened, I had a yarn that I wanted to swatch for photos, and so sometime in late October I decided I’d combine that need to swatch with a knit scarf for my third grader’s teacher — it’s her first year as a full teacher, our son isn’t the easiest student in the world to teach, and she’s really been going above and beyond in my opinion, and I usually do like to give a handmade fiber gift to his teachers. Or chocolate. So, I started lackadaisically knitting up 200 yards of the handpaint tussah single into a fairly lazy little improvised lacy diamonds kind of thing, which since I wasn’t knitting on it with any great regularity, I just barely managed to finish yesterday afternoon.

Scarf for my son's teacher

In lieu of blocking — which lacy knitting truly requires — I opted to wash it, and iron it dry. This worked out very nicely, however, and the finished scarf was not only thus dry in time to wrap and send in to school with our son on his last day of school before winter break, but super-flat, shiny, and wispy — and almost 8 inches wide and 5 feet long.

More of this same yarn is available in my eBay store, here.If that link doesn’t work out for you, just go straight to the store home, and enter “raw silk” in the search box. The handspun, hand-dyed tussah singles I routinely list for sale would also make similar scarves, but are finer; whereas this scarf was knit on US size 6 / 4mm needles, I’d recommend a US 4 / 3.5mm needle for the handspun tussah singles.

Other than that scarf, right after Thanksgiving, my better half mentioned — as he has more than once in the past — this one Christmas when his mother knit everyone in the extended family stockings, and how those had been the best stockings ever, and they were SO stretchy that as Christmas stockings they just were so great, and the next time I was talking to his mother, maybe I might ask her for that pattern. Indeed, I thought, I should finally do that.

Unfortunately, the pattern was lost some time ago, but she was able to lend me a finished stocking, from which to reconstruct the pattern. Armed with the actual object, the web, and — believe it or not — Red Heart Super Saver and sparkly acrylic “holiday” yarn, I set out to make three of them. These, I narrowly completed the night before last, and they now grace the mantel which Chad had put up specifically as a platform from which stockings could be hung.

Stockings were hung by the chimney with care

Edward’s was by far the most annoying; I can’t give “Red Heart Holiday” a particularly glowing review as yarn, nor is the resulting fabric terribly appealing; but it was the yarn he chose! And yes, folks, this handspinner is totally unrepentant about using cheap acrylic yarn for this project — Christmas stockings, after all, will be stored untouched and unseen in a dark place for most of the year, should be machine-washable if needed, and the last thing you want is to be unpacking the Christmas box and discover it’s been irretrievably moth damaged. Nothing eats that kind of yarn.

Depending on my level of ambition, however, I may redo these stockings in the coming year. Or the year after that. Certain things about them just disappoint the perfectionist in me a little.

Of course, there is a “well, that didn’t happen in time” to mention: a week and change ago, my son charmingly requested a Santa hat to wear to school, and I even bought some truly heinous but indestructible yarn for the purpose, but it just didn’t happen. I’m afraid December, and the last part of November, were largely lost to me due to dental work which I can really only term as extreme — until last week, I never knew it was possible to get half a root canal before having to be referred out to the super-specialist for the remainder of it. And never in my self-aware life have I subsisted for over a week on nothing but broth, yogurt, and pudding, nor had to commit to painkillers for weeks at a time. Here’s hoping I never do again!

Photo Gallery for 2006 Christmas Knitting
Photo Gallery for Christmas Stockings

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Can You Explain Spinning Wheel Drive Ratios?

The Basics of Spinning Wheel Drive Ratios

Spinning wheels are pulley systems. Changing ratios is basically the same principle as changing gears on a bicycle, except instead of sprockets and chains, you’ve got pulleys and drive bands.

Simply put, a ratio of 5:1 means that the drive wheel’s circumference is 5 times that of the circumference of the thing being driven (like the whorl). For every time that the drive wheel completes one rotation, the thing being driven (whether it’s flyer whorl, or bobbin) will rotate 5
times. So if you treadled such that the drive wheel completed 30 rotations (or revolutions) per minute, the flyer or bobbin would complete 5 times that many, or 150. Your 30 rpm at the drive wheel becomes 150 rpm at the flyer or bobbin.

If you want your flyer or bobbin to be going faster than that, in order to make more twist go into your yarn faster as you are spinning, without different ratios, your only option would be to increase the speed of the drive wheel, say by treadling faster on a treadle-powered wheel. Increasing your speed to where you are going 60 rpm at the drive wheel would then increase flyer or bobbin speed in a directly linear way, still at a ratio of 5:1 — so now you’re going 300 rpm at the flyer.

But, let’s say that you have another ratio available to you, of 7 to 1. In this case, the drive wheel’s circumference is 7 times that of the driven object. Simply changing from the 5:1 ratio to the 7:1 ratio, without changing the speed at which you’re treadling or turning the drive wheel, changes you from going 30 rpm at the drive wheel and 150 rpm at the driven end, to 30 rpm at the drive wheel and 210 rpm at the driven end.

So, an application of this principle: let’s say that I want to spin a really fine and high-twist yarn at a rate of, say, 1500 rpm at the flyer. To do this with a drive ratio of 5:1 on a treadle powered wheel where each treadle stroke represents a full rotation of the drive wheel, I’d have to treadle 300 times a minute!! Yowza! There’s no way that’s humanly possible. But at a ratio of 30:1, I’d only have to treadle 50 times a minute, to get 1500 rpm at the driven end. 😉

To sum up, different ratios allow you to get twist into your yarn at different rates while you are spinning, without changing the speed at which you treadle (or turn the drive wheel).

Going from a larger drive wheel circumference to a smaller driven item circumference, you get the biggest speed gains, and fastest flyer/bobbin rotation relative to treadling speed. Going from smallest drive wheel circumference to largest driven item circumference, you get the slowest flyer/bobbin speed relative to treadling speed. On most modern spinning wheels, this means if you have your drive band going around the largest groove on the drive wheel, and the smallest groove on your whorl, you’re going as fast as that wheel can go; if you’re going around the smallest groove on the drive wheel, and the largest groove on the whorl, you’re going as slow as that wheel can go.

Similar to bicycle gears, some ratios also can require more effort and force than others, just to get around — think of shifting to a low gear, for low-effort pedaling to get uphill, and then a higher gear, for greater speed on a flat stretch once you get going. The same effect is in play in pulley systems, but as implemented in spinning wheels, you typically need to be pushing the limits of your system in order to detect these effects to any great degree.

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Leslie’s Sweater Yarn, DONE!

Leslie’s sweater yarn is now complete, and shipped off to her! I’m left with three partly-full bobbins of single-ply yarn, which I’ll finish up and keep for myself, and two batts that I expect I’ll spin very fine, again, for myself.

Leslie's Sweater Yarn By completion, about 45 hours total were spent on the yarn, from dyeing and blending through test spinning, swatching, iteration, on to production spinning, production plying, skeining and measuring, finishing, and final put-up in 6 center-pull balls, 5 of them at 250 yards and one at 350 yards of higher-twist, just slightly finer yarn intended for cuffs and collars.

Roughly a third of that time could be considered prototyping; producing a similar amount of very similar yarn in the future would probably take around 30 hours.

So, some would ask, is it really worth it to produce a yarn like this, which at first blush looks very much like a millspun yarn, given that it takes that sort of time even for an experienced spinner like me?

I say it is (and hopefully, Leslie will agree when she has the yarn in hand). I certainly put that sort of time into spinning for my own projects, but I will grant you that not all yarn consumers would immediately believe it to be worth the cost. But ask yourself: have you ever worked your tail off knitting or crocheting a project, worn it a few times, and then found it was far more delicate than you expected, and just didn’t hold up? Or washed it and found it completely changed? Heaven knows I have, and it’s a major reason why I don’t often use commercial yarns for serious projects anymore (but stay tuned, you’ll soon see my commercial yarn projects, and those will probably surprise you). In any case, it’s heartbreaking to put a lot of work into a handmade garment you love, only to find you have to relegate it to the “very occasional wear” category or treat it with extreme kid gloves.

Leslie's Sweater YarnIf I’ve done my job right (and I have), that won’t be the fate of Leslie’s sweater. She can rest assured her sweater will fit her lifestyle and last her for many years. This is a type of longevity that most of us no longer expect from anything in our lives, let alone from our clothing — but it wasn’t always so. I myself, as a child, wore sweaters that were made by my great-grandmother, worn by my grandmother, and then by mother, before I wore them. We’re talking about children’s clothes, and household objects, that were made when Babe Ruth still played for the Red Sox. Heck, I own a quilt and an afghan that were made before women had the right to vote in the United States.

There are many factors involved in textile longevity, and I’m not going to promise Leslie that her great-granddaughter’ll be taking that sweater with her to colonize Mars or something. But I absolutely can promise her she can treat her hand-knit sweater like a regular wearable wardrobe item, and expect it to outlast her blue jeans. Her biggest worry should be if it’s going to go out of style, not whether she dares to put it on for fear of it wearing out.

So, yes, I say, it’s worth it to put that kind of time into spinning a well-constructed traditional yarn. Sure, it’s a custom colour, a custom blend of fiber, a one-of-a-kind yarn nobody else has and you can be certain you’ll never run into anyone else with the same sweater; and sure, those are great things. They’re just not the single biggest reason to spend an entire work week (or sometimes more) of an expert spinner’s time on a true designer yarn.

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Leslie’s Sweater Yarn

A few weeks back, I embarked on an exciting custom spinning project for a longtime friend, who wrote me to say she was ready to start knitting the sweater of her dreams, and did I have the right yarn for it by any chance? I wrote her back immediately telling her I insisted she let me design and spin her the perfect yarn for this specific sweater, and including a list of questions.

  • Do you have a pattern in mind, and if so, what yarn does it call for?
    The Debbie Bliss Classic Jacket, which calls for Debbie Bliss Cotton Cashmere, which should knit to a gauge of 5.5 stitches to the inch, or more specifically, a 4″ square (10cm square) should contain 30 rows and 22 stitches, using US size 5 needles.
  • Tell me about how you plan to wear it, care for it, and what you have in mind ideally.

    Not too fuzzy. More sleek than fuzzy. I like some fuzz but I also like to see my stitches. Some texture but not a ton. A little lumpy is fine. I made a sweater out of Manos del Uruguay this year — my big project. I loved it. But I don’t want something so thick and thin as that. A few knots or lumps here and there are fine, even desirable, but no sense in me making something in a very similar yarn to what I made this year.

    No shedding. Hand wash. It’s baggy. I’m going to wear it with everything — white blouses and skirts for work, white t shirts and jeans and boots the rest of the time. I like really soft yarn. Give or what you call memory is important to me. Warm isn’t that important to me. I live in California still. But I do like wool, natural fibers for sure. If it is warm, great too.

Reviewing these needs, it was clear that major design elements for this yarn should be strength and a fair amount of resistance to pilling. It would need a comfortable balance between sweatery drape and being lightweight, make a firm fabric with a gentle hand, be next-to-skin soft and have plenty of bounce. As for colour, we were shooting for a variegated cornflower blue.

For the fibers, I chose to blend a midrange commercial merino top (64’s grade), natural-coloured tussah silk top, and light brown loose Chinese cashmere.

64's grade commercial merino topLight brown Chinese cashmereNatural-coloured tussah silk top

Step one was to ballpark the amount of each that I’d need, and dye them. I went with 10 ounces of merino, 8 ounces of silk, and a little over 2 ounces of cashmere, each of which I split into separate small batches of varying sizes, and dyed in different shades of blue, from electric and robin’s egg to royal blue to violet and deep eggplant. With each natural coloured fiber being a little different, and in particular the cashmere being brown, the resulting range of blues encompassed probably 30 shades in all.

Merino top, dyed variegated bluesLight brown cashmere, overdyed in varied bluesTussah silk, dyed in varied blues

Once dyed and dried, it was time to blend the fibers with my drum carder, the trusty Cardzilla, a Strauch doublewide motorized model, the muscle car of carders, complete with footprint gas pedal and stickers from MSD and Edelbrock (okay, those parts actually went on the ’72 Pontiac, but the stickers belonged on Cardzilla). And Cardzilla’s foot pedal is still just round — still haven’t found the right size footprint one, but I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled.

CardzillaThe blendThe Blend, on Cardzilla

After several passes through Cardzilla, I had a total of 14 batts weighing 1.5 to 2.5 ounces each, all three fibers evenly distributed throughout all of them, but with some variegation in colours carefully preserved.

Carded blended fiber, ready to spinBatts ready to spin

At 50% merino, 40% tussah silk, and 10% cashmere, these batts are light, fluffy, lofty, and incredibly soft. Carrying them around from one lighting zone to another, the colours in them shift. I allowed for extra fiber for sampling and swatching purposes, but no sooner did I finish these batts than I found myself really wishing I’d doubled the recipe, so to speak, and planned to spin some of this for a sweater for myself. With any luck I’ll end up with enough left over for a scarf or a shawl. The blend is totally unfair and irresistible. It’s similar to one I’ve done many times before in natural colours, saving the dyeing for later… it’s just a really delightful blend and I’m thrilled with it (hopefully, Leslie will be too).

With the blend complete, it was time to do some sampling. I spun one batt up in a not-so-fine single, which in turn I plied in several ways, then swatched, to get a sense of exactly how I wanted to spin and ply. To do this quickly from one bobbin, I first wound a center-pull ball, then wound several other balls from this one: another center-pull ball with two strands (this was the largest), a triple-stranded Peruvian-style ball, and a smaller double-stranded Peruvian-style ball.

Single-ply yarndouble-stranded center-pull balltriple-stranded Peruvian-style ball

I set aside about 30 yards of the single to swatch as well, just for kicks, even though I knew there was no way it would knit to gauge, nor would it have the appropriate wear characteristics. This single, I had allowed some variegation in thickness as Leslie had said she found some variegation in texture desirable. In any case, I wanted to test a 2-ply yarn, a 3-ply yarn, and a cabled yarn (the 2-ply, plied with itself). I felt it was most likely that the 3-ply would be the yarn we were after, but I have also had great results from similar blends in a 2-ply yarn so I figured that was worth testing as well; and as for the cabled yarn, while I was fairly sure that would be denser than we wanted, I also thought this blend would just make a beautiful cabled yarn and had to give it a whirl.

Single-ply yarn, swatched on US size 3 needles:

singles yarnSingles Swatch
Singles Swatch, backlit

Top left: the yarn; top right, the swatch in progress; bottom, the swatch, backlit so you can see clearly how open and thick-and-thin this looks. It’s pretty, but not strong or long-wearing or sweater fabric or remotely close to the gauge we’re after!

2-ply yarn, swatched on US size 4 needles:

2-ply yarn2-ply swatch
2-ply swatch, backlit

Top left: 2-ply yarn; top right: swatch knit on US size 4 needles, 24 stitches to 4 inches/10 cm; bottom, swatch backlit to show consistency and fabric density

3-ply yarn, swatched on US size 5 needles:

3-ply yarn3-ply swatch backlit
3-ply swatch

Top left: 3-ply yarn; Top right: backlit swatch on US size 5 needles; bottom, swatch with measuring tape showing gauge, 18 stitches to 4 in / 10 cm

4-ply cabled yarn, swatched on US size 5 needles

Cabled Yarn
Swatch, cabled yarn

Top: cabled yarn sample: the 2-ply yarn shown above, plied with itself in the opposite direction of the original ply (same direction as spin). Bottom: swatch knitted on US size 5 needles, 4 stitches to the inch.

The final analysis

In the final analysis, and after consulting with Leslie about whether or not she’s a tight knitter, and re-swatching the 3-ply on size 4 needles myself, I deemed the 3-ply yarn to have the right drape and wear properties, and made the decision to thin down the production singles a little and do a 3-ply yarn.

Singles on the bobbin I’m now entering production mode for the yarn; see the start of a single at left.

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How (and Why) To Use A Half-Hitch On A Spindle With No Hook or Notch

One of the questions I hear often these days is “I have a spindle with no hook or notch to hold the yarn — how do I work this half-hitch thing I’ve heard about?”

I grew up spinning this way, on Peruvian low whorl spindles which are as simple a spindle as you can get: a stick with a weight near the bottom. Although I do now often use other kinds of spindles, including ones with hooks and/or notches, I still find the Peruvian low whorl spindle with the half-hitch on the smooth shaft to be the fastest.

Why? Because there’s no looking involved — you can do it all by feel. This is great for spinning while you’re doing other things, like walking around. When you need to wind on more yarn, you simply flick the half-hitch off the end of the spindle shaft with your thumb, and it disappears immediately (even if you’ve used more than one) . If it doesn’t slip off easily, just pinch it between your thumb and forefinger and slip it off.

Being comfortable with this technique allows a spinner to use a wider range of tools, such as Andean spindles or Turkish spindles, neither of which traditionally use a hook or notch. You can also put it to work doing things like turning your top whorl spindle upside down and spinning it like a low whorl, for improvising a spindle from any stick and moderately balanced weight, or dealing with problems like a broken spindle or missing hook. You can use it to secure your cop (the spun yarn you’ve wound onto your spindle) for transporting your spinning, too. Lastly, while I do love some of my top whorl spindles, all of which have notches and hooks in them, I do find that when I have them in my carry-around bag, sometimes the hook will get caught on things and cause me to become irritated; and hey, hooks are commonly made of metal and you know how those airline screener folks are these days — but they’re usually pretty easygoing about letting you have a stick.

The half-hitch can be done essentially one-handed (indeed, I did it one-handed to take these photos!) and with practice, is one single fluid motion. For demonstration purposes, I broke it up into 10 steps which are easier to describe than a single motion.

The mechanics of putting the half-hitch on the spindle shaft are essentially the same as one of the simplest cast-on methods for knitting, the half-hitch cast-on, or single cast-on. The only difference is that you most likely have your spindle shaft held vertical instead of horizontal (like you’d have needles), and you should only need one or two half-hitches to hold your yarn securely. Here it is, in pictures (featuring me and my dye-stained fingers!):

Step 1 Step 2

  • Step 1: Yarn goes over your thumb.
  • Step 2: Yarn comes back under your thumb.

Step 3 Step 4

  • Step 3: Yarn comes back over your thumb.
  • Step 4: Hook your thumb to hold your loop.

Step 5 Step 6

  • Step 5: Bring your hooked thumb, with the loop around it, up between the yarn coming off the spindle and the L between your thumb and forefinger, and this is what you’ll see.
  • Step 6: Put the tip of your thumb on the end of your spindle shaft.

Step 7 Step 8

  • Step 7: Start sliding the loop off your thumb, right onto the spindle shaft.
  • Step 8: Pull the half-hitch tight.

Step 9 Step 10

  • Step 9: This is really an alternate view of Step 8. Note that the loop goes OVER the yarn that you’re about to keep spinning; this is what makes this work.
  • Step 10: Once you’ve pulled your half-hitch tight, this is more or less how it will look. Use additional half-hitches if you find that this slips off too easily.

A few final tips: slippery yarn very well may call for more than one half-hitch. Use as many as you like, they’ll all come undone when they slide off the shaft. You can also reverse these directions so that instead of having your thumb under the yarn in step 1, your thumb is over it; play with this to find which way is most comfortable for you, because that’ll be where your speed comes from with this technique.

Want to see bigger pictures? They’re here.

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November, Shorter Days, Sock Blends

Today I’m working on sock blends, in large part to work my way through the pile of bombyx silk seconds that I wound up with from recent silk dyeing sessions. Basically, any time that a silk fails my quality control for being saleable as top, I put it on the blending pile — it’s still beautiful fiber, but not quite up to my standards for sale. Usually, this will be because I break a top while moving it; sometimes it gets too tangly in a dyebath; sometimes it weighs up a little short. Every now and then, there’s one where the dye doesn’t penetrate to the depth I expect it to, or the colour is just not quite right. So anyway, blending fodder.

Muted Sock Blends TodayAs luck would have it, here as days grow shorter and bleaker, I seem to have already worked my way through the lion’s share of bright colours, and I’m left with the muted tones, and a whole lot of gray superwash merino, which is absolutely wonderful in its softness, but… you know, gray! So here I am with muted-colour silks and gray superwash that I’ve postponed far longer than I meant to. There won’t be a new round of really bright silks until I do another dye day, and that’s not going to be until my next shipment of bombyx silk arrives, sometime this week I expect. Of course, with Thanksgiving approaching, and family coming in to town, next week isn’t going to be a big work week for me.

Sock blends, though, are big fun. I find them very satisfying. To be a really good sock blend, the fiber needs to be very easy to spin fine, and absolutely next-to-skin soft. It needs to have some memory, so there’s some stretch and bounce, and it needs to be a long-wearing blend. Combining superwash wool, various silks, and a little bit of nylon absolutely does produce such a blend, and then it’s up to the spinner to spin the sock yarn he or she wants.

Perhaps the trickiest element with sock blends is coming up with something that it’s not just as easy for someone to buy in a millspun sock yarn. Especially in the past few years, the range of options for commercial sock yarns have really increased, and this is a constant challenge for me as a fiber producer. I tend to solve it by adding really luxurious fibers into my core recipe — a little angora, or some cashmere, maybe baby camel down — and sometimes man-made high-tech fibers that do really interesting things (like firestar nylon, which if done right can be both really startling and not too overpowering).

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Abby’s Yarns Site Up and Running!

Well, the Abby’s Yarns site is finally up and running, and what with the Franquemont Fibers eBay store stable and reasonably full of inventory, I’m shifting gears from production work to web work for a little bit. Little by little, I’m gathering up, editing, and putting online many things I’ve written on the subject of fiber arts over the years, as well as building my online storefront. It’s no small task, but it’s very exciting to be putting it all together at last.

Choosing the first set of articles to work with is proving to be a bigger challenge than I ever expected! For November 2006, I’ll be focusing on handspinning basics and some of the most frequently asked questions I hear from new handspinners (or folks who’d like to become handspinners), and on getting shop infrastructure in place. Stay tuned to this space for regular updates!

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“Old School” vs. “New School” handspinning

Original Post:

Are people spinning yarn today for the same reasons they were a few decades ago? Maybe, maybe not — maybe some of both. When a more traditional spinner encountered a newer art yarn spinner and expressed surprise, a little bit of a culture clash occured. Here’s what I said:

Welcome to the culture shock that happens when a longstanding spinner meets the new generation, many of whom are intensely focused on novelty yarns! It is pretty common among the spinners I’ve gotten to know in the past few years, who have been spinning for 5 years or less. There’s a real sea change afoot relating to this. And even many of the traditional novelties are no longer in vogue. Related to this is the art yarn movement — novelty yarn which is spun and never used in a product beyond yarn; the yarn itself is viewed as the end product.

To an old-school spinner, much of these seems terribly wild and crazy. Me, I was so stunned by my overall “not getting it” feeling that I spent a year or two working on both traditional novelties and new novelties. Pretty much across the board, I can’t find a use for novelty yarns; but, some of ’em were interesting and fun techniques to work through. The traditional boucle and its many variants are actually pretty addictive to produce, even if I have yet to actually use more than one of my products — and because I got hooked on boucles, I now consider coned binder yarns, synthetic flosses, metallic sparkly thread, to be legitimate supplies — something you wouldn’t have heard me say 5 years ago.

I think what’s drawing a lot of new spinners TO spinning, in the first place, is the appeal of being able to create novelty yarns that can’t be purchased, and that are wild and crazy. These are knitters and crocheters who have previously purchased novelty yarns. It’s a really interesting time in the spinning world, if you ask me. And there is not a ton of interaction between the new school and the old school. 😉

I subsequently received this comment:

I think a lot of it is just that spinning bulky novelty-ish yarns is just flat out more fun…especially if you’re low on patience (*cough*) I do find that a lot of them look nicer than store bought novelty yarns though, because they’re not made out of cheap scratchy crap and still look pleasantly handspun. A very good conventional handspun tends to look a lot like a very good storebought yarn, and as a poor young knitter, I’d be more inclined to go buy that sort of yarn than spend more time and money making it (or spending a LOT of money buying a handspun version.) I’d rather spin something that I can’t buy cheap, ya know?

See, this is interesting. This reply contains a selection of the sorts of statements that surprise, and sometimes even tend to upset or irritate the more “old-school” spinners of the world. Here’s how that breaks down:

1. “Spinning bulky novelty-ish yarns is just more fun.”

I think this might be true for new spinners, but it is definitely NOT true for the vast majority of people I know who’ve been spinning for decades. Most of the really longstanding spinners I know derive their challenges from spinning meticulously designed and planned yarns that are ideally suited to their purposes, from pushing the boundaries of what they already can accomplish with the techniques they know, from learning really new things — and the tricks of the trade for producing novelty yarns don’t tend to do that as much for a really longtime spinner as for a new spinner. The exception here, of course, is that there are spinners who really were largely forbidden from trying some of those novelty techniques, for whom they are exciting new things — for a while, at least. Whether that continues to be true is hard to say. I myself, despite spending almost 2 years of study on novelties, and being entirely capable of producing them, just never really found most of them to be much fun.

2. “…and still look pleasantly handspun.”

See, this starts to get the old-school going. Generally speaking, thick-and-thin, irregular spun, slubbed, irregularly-plied, imperfectly drafted yarn, looks to a veteran spinner like evidence of newbie work. I assure you that I can tell the difference between a thick-and-thin yarn produced by an expert spinner with thick-and-thin design elements carefully planned for, and a novice yarn. However, people who are not spinners and possibly even spinners who are not as experienced as I am, tend not to be able to tell that so well. Moving straight on from there into part 2 of the same peeve for a lot of old-school spinners:

3. A very good conventional handspun looks just like a millspun yarn, and it’s cheaper to buy the millspun.

And this is where the old-school spinner’s head is likely to explode. This is perhaps true… to the untrained, undiscerning eye. And this starts to get into the real meat of things for a lot of long-time spinners. The truth of the matter is that a millspun yarn looks almost like a real handspun yarn. In order for the Industrial Revolution to succeed, folks, two major things had to happen: first, machinery needed to be created to closely approximate work done by skilled labor; and second, the world at large had to be sold on accepting a lesser product, for a far lesser price.

I can’t stress that enough. The mill, the factory, the modern world as we know it, filled with mass-produced goods — it all depends on people being willing to accept a life filled with things that are not quite as good as the original variants, simply because they can be made more widely available when mass-produced. Two centuries ago, your clothes would have fit correctly — because either you would have made them to fit, or a family member would have, or a trained professional would have. Now, almost nobody even KNOWS what correctly-fitting clothes look like.

A guildmate of mine is fond of saying, “Columbus sailed to the New World on handspun, handwoven sails.” This is a fact, and one not often remembered or considered these days. Folks, textiles are so integral to our lives, so essential to our daily routines, that in many respects they are largely invisible to us, now that most of us no longer engage in daily work to produce them, or spend large parts of our lives acquiring the skills to work with them. Does a really good conventional handspun look just like a commercial, industrial, mass-produced product? Not any more than an elaborately crafted piece of handmade wooden furniture looks like something you picked up in a box at Target for $69.95. It’s far more accurate to say the mass-produced item comes close to looking like the original, handmade thing. Do we all believe that handmade furniture must have flaws, problems, and major imperfections in order to “look handmade,” or do we marvel at meticulous joinery and finish work? Why do Ferraris, custom motorcycles, and that sort of thing cost so much more than just buying a new Honda? Because they’re made by hand by people expert in that making, expert in ways it can take a lifetime to achieve.

More with the fiber arts than other arts and crafts still practiced, modern industrialized cultures tend to use this language to discuss them where we say “Oh with all those flaws, it looks handspun and handwoven!” To someone who HAS invested an entire lifetime in really doing things meticulously, this is an extreme frustration. It would be like a master furniture maker having his or her work shrugged off and disregarded because it doesn’t look like a 6th grader’s wood shop project, which clearly has a “handmade look” to it, right? Those globs of glue, flawed joins at corners, the nail poking out the side, and the uneven stain under uneven polyurethane — definitely handmade. By a novice. Who I’m sure enjoyed making that napkin holder, but that doesn’t mean it’s a master’s work. It could even be very nice novice work, and functional, and pretty or cute or really entertaining to use — but it’s not master work. Master work is the Real Deal that mass-production seeks to emulate in sufficient quantity, and at low enough cost, to make it available to large markets.

So, old-school spinners were steeped in the notion that the goal is to become a master spinner — someone who COULD have spun and woven sails to cross the vast uncharted seas, clothed an entire family forever, taught generations to do the same. In that mindset, novelties, in general, are just that — novelties: funny, amusing, light-hearted; there’s nothing WRONG with them, but they aren’t “serious yarn.” This is especially seen to be true when we’re talking about novelties that simulate the newbie look, which now there are even millspun yarns that do. To a hardcore old-school textile artist, it is utterly mystifying why anybody would *intentionally* produce thick-and-thin yarn, for example. But meanwhile, to many new-school spinners, who cannot (or cannot yet) produce truly excellent old-school yarns, and whose yarn use norms probably also differ from the old-school spinner’s, the question is why anybody would choose to spin something you could arguably just buy. And that particular question, too, is a sore point for many fiber artists, because it’s been being asked for SO long — why would you weave, spin, knit, crochet, sew, or anything like that, when you can just BUY stuff? For fiber artists, too, it gets asked with much greater frequency and often condescension than for other kinds of craftspeople and artists. Consider, for example, the kind of money that goes into build home workshops for people who enjoy woodworking — and how rarely those folks are ever asked, why would you make a jewelry box, chair, table, when you could just buy one?

This is what I’m trying to get at by calling it culture shock — for a lot of people who’ve been spinning for decades, things like the art yarn movement, or spinning thick-and-thin slubbed yarns from expensive, well-prepped raw materials, are shocking and incomprehensible — in much the same way as the art yarn devotee has a hard time coming up with a good reason to spin a meticulous 2-ply thread. Obviously, both schools of thought share more in common than they don’t, however: neither side has to ask the other “But why do you spin at all, when you could just buy yarn or better yet, finished items?” And both sides have things to learn from each other as well.

My purpose here is not to call one side of this debate better or worse than the other — they’re simply different, with different rationales and value sets and aesthetics, which can be shocking to each other. But there are things to be gained, great things, from open and honest debate. For the old school, there’s all kinds of new opportunity to rethink what you might be used to seeing and doing; and for the new school, there are vast, untold wealths of knowledge held by veteran spinners, which really can make you better at doing what YOU want to do, whatever that is.

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Purple Mohair/Silk Triangle; Creme de Menthe Scarf

Some recent finished objects with handspun yarn, and one in progress.

1. Triangle, bottom up, improvised variant on “Falling Leaves” lace, bounded by criscrossed diamonds. The yarn: I blended mohair, tussah silk, and a dash of the horrible-looking orange and black firestar nylon, and that is this 2-ply yarn.

2. Sampler scarf, including lots of fudging! The goal: fit various lace patterns into bounded diamonds while using up the yarn, which I’ve been meaning to do something with for 2 years now. It’s a cashmere/tussah silk/merino 2-ply yarn, and the scarf, knitted on size 2 US needles, came to about 6 feet long.

3. Again with the using up stuff I spun a while ago, this yarn was dated 1/4/2004, and is a L:ouet camel/tussah blend that gave me because he rules.