woolly thoughts

For someone who is evangelical about natural fibres, it’s ironic that after university I joined the graduate trainee scheme at Courtaulds plc, major manufacturer of acrylic, acetate and viscose. I worked in a central trading department which sold to the USSR and my life was dominated by monthly trips to Moscow, visas, 40-foot containers, shipping, telexes, meetings with various Soviet ministries to negotiate sales, mills and factories in the UK and Soviet Union, textile engineers, vodka, toasts, blinis, and black market caviar.

But even two years of this high life couldn’t convert me. I’d already given acrylic a good shot when I was spending time in Grenoble as part of my dismal year abroad (a long story). The French Phildar and Pingouin acrylic yarns had the best colours, and the Phildar pattern magazines were enormous fun. I knitted a chunky picture jumper (an Alpine landscape, I seem to remember, with a shudder of embarrassment) which came home with me. I put it in the washing machine in the student union laundrette then went for a swim. I’d asked my friend to get it out which he did, but he then put it in the tumble drier and, when it was dry, pulled it out by the arm. Which was like extruding a sausage; the acrylic had melted, it just kept stretching and stretching and set as a ridiculously long sleeve when it cooled. Of course I cried, but now I think it’s funny, and an object lesson in the perils of knitting acrylic picture jumpers.

And this is how I came to love Patricia Roberts’ yarns. I got my PR pattern book out again after writing about her a couple of weeks ago, and immediately relived the longing I’d felt for jumpers with bunches of mohair grapes on them, striped alpaca crew-necks, and ice-cream pastel angora argyles. They were beyond my budget, but I’ve never lost a taste and huge preference for wool, cotton, linen, and silk.

I’ve been thinking about natural fibres again while I made this rag rug for Phoebe’s birthday. I’m really not too fussy about what goes into something which will be walked on, but I dislike wearing man-made fibres. The list of complaints is long but mostly to do with feeling either cold (viscose) or overheated (acrylic), the melting properties of acrylic (see above), the way viscose seizes when washed and creases immediately when worn, the poor/zero thermal and wicking properties of acetate and polyester and nylon. BUT, their colours and textures can be wonderful, and perfect for a rag rug.

So I go to Emmaus, a brilliant charity just north of Cambridge, which has a huge used clothes section with just one low price for each type of garment. I ransack the racks of £3 jumpers and cardigans, and stock up on all the colours I like but wouldn’t actually wear, irrespective of the fibre content.

[in the making]

But, another big BUT, there is absolutely nothing like wool for pulling through a rug canvas. It’s beautifully bouncy and stretchy and easy to hook, and forms lovely loops which are soft and springy underfoot. Sadly, though, there are very few pure wool jumpers etc in Emmaus because the fact is that cheap man-made fibres dominate the fast-fashion market, and lovely natural fibres are now way beyond most budgets. I’ve seen several articles talking about this autumn’s knitwear - since when did a nice but fairly ordinary wool crew-neck sweater cost £295? It bothers me that wool and cotton are now often marketed as luxury fibres; long ago, I advised Alice and Phoebe to look for natural fibres when clothes shopping, but have given up now after too many wails and complaints about cost and availability.

So this rug has all sorts in it. As, indeed, a rag rug should. It’s mix of acrylic and occasional wool from Emmaus, one of Phoebe’s old jumpers, and a lot of the wonderful cashmere strips (mill offcuts which would otherwise go into landfill) which I bought in bulk and are a dream to pull through. (I don’t use cotton because it’s harder to hook, despite being readily available in the form of old T shirts in good colours, and I haven’t tried silk yet.) It took me a week to make while watching the last season of Ghosts (wonderfully warm, funny, and clever) and Maigret with the brilliant Bruno Cremer (Crémer? the accent appears to be fugitive).

My love of linen was also reaffirmed this week.

[tiny linen quilt by Sarah Hibbert]

I did a workshop with Sarah Hibbert who is a brilliant teacher, has written an excellent book, and makes beautiful quilts with plain linens.

[my collage/potential quilt]

This was a collage and freestyle day, and it was good to just have a go at something different. I used cottons, but know that for the results I’d like to achieve, linen would be best. I had a quick visit to Ray Stitch to see and touch their linens (touching is unavoidable with linen, I find), and to ‘invest’ in a couple of colours.

And there has been a day at the LCBA (it should be the LCBBA or London Centre for Book Arts and Biscuits, given the amount of happy biscuit-eating that goes on there)

using sunshine-yellow linen thread to stitch more books made with my cyanotypes.

My woolly thinking doesn’t really extend to wool, I know. I think wool is exceptionally good. Often the best.

Happy Sunday!