Elegance is Refusal

A order of wool turned up in the mail.  I find it tricky to judge wool at a distance.  In order to satisfy my curiosity I got the minimum amount of the types I wanted to see, planning to evaluate them and order more of the best.

The plain BFL looks lovely as expected with a demi-luster to it.  I will get more sometime.

The natural dark Corriedale to me is acceptable for a brown because it's quite dark.  By acceptable I mean I can bear to be in the room with it as long as bright light is not striking the stuff and turning it a lighter shade.  I prefer a true grey.  As expected the look is matte.  I prefer lustre.

I was hemming and hawing over whether to get more Corriedale.  Ambivalence is my cue to stop and realize that more would be a mistake.  I could delude myself and go on imagining that more would get me closer to making the wooly stuff I want to produce.  However, I would rue any followthrough on that wishful thinking.

The generic domestic blend of wool is noticeably coarse but not overly so.  The prep is well done: no chaff, no snarls.  I think it is a house brand.  There are a few dark strands.  I wasn't expecting first quality colour for the cheap price and I'm not a commercial dyer so I don't care about a few dark strands mixed in.

I originally thought I might stuff a pillow with the generic blend but the Cheviot I got in a previous order is much more springy and suitable.  Makes sense since Cheviot is a down breed.

I could use the generic wool to give away at demos to curious passers-by, all the while worrying about turning them off wool by giving them scratchy stuff.  Or I might resell the wool at my guild.

I recently resold at a slight loss most of the Gales Art Velvet Elvis braids for which I had mulled over an end use last year.  The braids are by all standards attractive and well-dyed yet my own ambivalence turned into a definite signal to allow someone else the pleasure of owning them.