Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Yarn diet FAIL

Piggy has taken a tumble (well, a running jump is probably more accurate) from the yarn diet wagon. No huge shocker there, really; I (and everyone who knows me) knew from the outset it was only a matter of time before I'd be writing this confessional.

That doesn't lessen the sting, however. I am really rather disgusted with myself, if not for the reason you might suppose. It's got nothing to do with how long it took to cheat on the diet -- I'm actually rather impressed that I managed to go almost a whole month without buying yarn for myself.

It's about how I cheated.

I've always believed that if you're going to do something -- even something bad, like breaking a diet -- you should do it right. Give it a 110%. Go big or go home. In for a penny, in for a pound. You see where I'm going with this, I'm sure.

It is on this point that Piggy's mere fail is elevated to a FAIL.

What do you reckon I bought?

A plus-sized sweater's worth of fingering weight qiviut collected by Inuit muskox hunters?


Perhaps a shawl's worth of naturally dyed lace weight cashmere spindle-spun by a women's collective from a decade's worth of harvests of hand-combed fibre from a tiny herd of milk-fed, free-range goats raised in a valley in Kashmir itself?

Sorry, no.

Right, ok, then, yes. Best not be too greedy. And remember, Piggy is pretty poor. So what about a few skeins of delicious Mmmmmalabrigo, then?

I'm afraid not.

Wait for it -- this is what I broke the diet for:

Yes, yes that is what you think it is. Dishcloth cotton and fuzzy acrylic.

Don't ask. Seriously.


  1. You make me happy, Piggy, because I have done the same once upon a time. Stay strong. and keep knitting dishcloths. :D

  2. You never know what's going to call your name. If you love it go for it.

  3. I publicized my falling off the wagon earlier this week. I splurged and got myself a ball of lace weight cashmere for a scarf. My first foray into the yummy-ness of cashmere, not that I haven't been coveting some for years. Does it help that I fell off harder?

  4. That's not a bad falling down. More like a little trip. Just think of it as swiping a finger-full of icing from the birthday cake and move one. :)

  5. Sigh...I just don't think you're even trying anymore. I'm...saddened. When elann had Zara on sale last week, that would have been a good reason to fall, but kitchen cotton and snowflake? You could do so much better! Speaking of, wanna go to Birkeland Bros this Sunday? Snort!

  6. Oh Piggy. Don't know what to say! I was hoping that the squooshyness would help your yarn cravings, but apparently not! Ah, well. You are loved regardless.

    You've already admitted that you have a problem, that's the first step...

  7. Wow, speechless. ☺

    (I really like that pink...)