confessions of a crack addict
did i say crack? i meant yarn.
but we in the knitting business know that a good ball of yarn can be as addictive as any illegal substance. and totally as expensive.
the only thing that so far has saved me from personal bankruptcy is the fact that whenever i want something special i have to buy it online. which is too slow and lacks the integral touch-and-feel part of buying yarn. so i’ve been relatively safe, with only a few relapses at fairs and conventions here and there. but now my local yarn store has, in its infinite evilness, started stocking luxury yarns.
the other day i went there to buy some boring mundane everyday 3.80 merino for another turtle i was making. and what do i see stashed incospicuously on a shelf below eye level, as if to fool the casual passer-by? koigu! jitterbug! malabrigo freakin’ sock!
|yes. malabrigo freakin’ sock. in candombe.|
why, satanic proprietors, have you done this to us? have you no idea what this means to these poor souls with no level of self-control?
i found myself forced to grab furiously whatever i can and proceed to the counter, with the same shameful it’s-so-wrong-but-it-feels-so-right look on my face that alcoholics and crack whores often have.
here you go, 17.50 euros for a single hank of yarn. my brain and my wallet may be bleeding but inside i’m having the most filthily orgastic pillow-fight slumber party of my life. rapture is only a tram ride away.