When you see me, even if I'm not knitting there's probably an Emotional Support Sock in my purse. So about a decade ago when I happened to be up at my very new boyfriend's apartment for the weekend and realized I was without wool, I popped into the local yarn store to get something that would tide me over for the five or six hours until I got back to my stash. This was when I was knitting 10-15 pair of socks a year, so I was more fidgety than I am at present.
The yarn store was small and had an okay selection but the store owner seemed deeply unwilling to sell me yarn. It became clear over a few minutes that I was not her preferred clientele (who all appeared to be richer and older than I was, then about 30). I remember getting a condescending answer when I asked if she carried metal needles. Oh, *those* were just not as good. My 20 years experience with mostly metal needles at the time was surprised to hear that. Also, wooden dpns that are 2.25 mm thick.... do you know how easily those snap when I sit on the bag accidentally?
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| Spite Yarn |
But I was determined and I found at least one colorway that I liked. What was I going to make, she asked? Socks. She was SHOCKED! I COULDN'T! Great, do you have this colorway in any other base. Well, NO. Cool, I'll take the Madtosh Singles skein then. House slippers it would be.
I'd say it was the most resentful $30 I think I've ever had a yarn store owner receive from me but I think that prize goes to the yarn store owner in La Crosse who physically got between me and the yarn on my first visit -- and kept scooting around so I couldn't get to the shelves -- that actually takes the cake. (Caveat, the only money I ever spent in the LAX store was for a gift card that we gave away at an event.) 
The Philosopher spent years suggesting I try the store again after we moved in together and one afternoon I did. The owner was alone that day, I wasn't offending any of her knitting groups and we sort of chatted about yarn. I remember making a comment on how obviously something was Kaffe Fasset and his delight for Bonkers amounts of colors and her response of "well No One knits plain black socks."
My response to that was to pull a pair of half finished plain black socks out of my purse. Yes they do. When your mother asks for plain black socks, that's something you make. Oh.
I asked what she suggested for baby blankets, of which I was planning to make a few. She handed me super bulky multi-colored yarn in weirdly mixed colors that was never going to be machine washable. And with that I left.
The store closed permanently sometime last year. I tried to think of it as a loss but it's not for me. If she'd been remotely friendly, I would have spent stupid amounts of money and heavily promoted them. I would have come in and knit and loaned them finished objects for the display window.
And in this pass through the stash, I've decided the Spite Yarn needs to go. No, I never did knit it up into socks. I worked on it for a few inches and then went back to my own stash and one of the hundreds of other skeins I have.
I've kept the yarn because spite and because the colorway is beautiful but I realized in this pass through the stash that I have several skeins from dyers I love in similar shades. So it's off to be in someone else's hands, someone for whom it won't immediately invoke spite.
That's growth, right?
Abigail, happy to find your blog, and I love this anecdote! There was a lady like this in Santa Fe. A place called Miriam's Well. She sold beautiful yarn, but it was always empty. The entrance was behind the building and was most unwelcoming. Then inside, it was cold and the lights were dim. Everything was cleabn and neatly arranged but in such a manner that it was scary to touch anything. The owner was always the only one there, with a scowl on her face. Pretty shocking, in hindsight! Last I heard she was trying to sell the business.
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