When a maker says the word stash, they are probably referring to a collection of the primary materials needed to practice their craft. For knitters, yarn; for spinners, fleece; for quilters, fabric; and so on. Stashes can start out modestly—a single special skein received as a gift, or maybe leftovers from a project that you just can’t get rid of. Stashes are built up over time—weeks, months, decades—and additions may be made impulsively or deliberately, for a particular project or solely because of the enticing scent of wool coming from a pile of gorgeous skeins. We crafters can get emotionally attached to certain items in our stash (a skein of silk that reminds us of a far-away friend, a bag of qiviut fluff from a festival) and even to our stash as a whole.
In preparation for writing my recent Digits & Threads article about moths, I asked a few dozen folks on Ravelry what they thought about their stashes and if they had any words of wisdom to share. The responses were not at all what I had expected. Instead of giving advice on lavender sachets and bins versus bags, these experienced fibre folk told stories about their stashes—where they bought their first skein of yarn, the emotions they had about having a stash in the first place, and how they knew when bounty had become burden. I tried to pick just one story to share, but then realized that it might be more interesting to hear from a variety of voices. Be aware that the quotes below are not always in complete sentences, and, except for small edits for clarity, I chose to leave them in the authors’ own words.
Thank You to Our Members ❤️
Digits & Threads content was made possible by our members, and we will always be grateful to them!
I’m grateful to (in alphabetical order by given or user name): Alison, Alyce, Carrie, Chris, filatura, Jekka, Laura, Mardi, Martha, plantgoddess, Tanya, and all the others who so graciously shared their stories.
Stash as Identity
Carrie: I forget which wise blogger pointed this out, but for many crafters, it’s much easier to purchase supplies and tools than to secure the time necessary to work on projects.
Sometimes, for some people, buying yarn or fiber or tools is the main way that they are able to express dedication to their hobby during busy periods of life.
It’s a way of being able to say to oneself, “I’m still a knitter,” even though, realistically—while having a toddler or writing a dissertation or studying for the bar exam—one’s not going to have time to knit that sweater for a few years. IMHO, this is a sad comment on capitalism and how our lives are structured around money first and time second—but that’s veering afield.
In Which Sandi Learns the Taste of Neolithic Shoes
Yes, we are still talking about stashes here.
Chris, whose words are quoted above, is one of foremost scholars in the world on warp-weighted looms: vertical looms which were used from the Neolithic Age to about 1300 CE, focussing on those used in Anglo-Saxon and Viking Britain. When I asked her to describe a warp weight for you, she replied, “A warp weight is used to add tension to the warp strings attached to the loom. It is tied to a certain number of warp threads, depending on the preference of the weaver, hanging just off the ground or floor so they can swing with the changing of the shed.”
I had never seen one of these looms, nor their weights, in person, so I had vague ideas about Chris gathering carefully sized and matched stones from some meadow somewhere. Thus, for this story, I rather jokingly asked her if she had a stash of warp-weights.
Schooled me well and firmly, she did.
Chris: At the moment I own something like 100 doughnut-shaped weights that are 200 grams each. I did own 50 triangle shaped weights that were about 250 grams, but they didn’t match the era and area that I reenact, so I passed them along to someone who was interested in the loom. So I sort of have a stash, in that I have more than I use at one time, but I also don’t, in that they are a tool and I only have one type of loom weight at the moment. …I have more weights than I generally put on the loom, but they do chip and break, so I need extras. They are a commission from a potter because you can’t get this sort of thing anywhere, [and] they require research to find the right shape and size, as well as experimentation to see what works for you.
Chris working at a weighted loom. Image courtesy Chris Petty.
A small subset of Chris’s stash of loom weights. Image courtesy Chris Petty.
Sandi: I am suitably chastened—and amused.
To paraphrase William Shakespeare, there are indeed more stashes in heaven and earth, than are dreamt of in anyone’s philosophy.
William probably had a stash of his favourite writing inks…
