I worked on several different making projects this week. I was struck by how much I approached two completely different sorts of projects in the same way. The first was the dye project I talked about last week. The red-orange yarn turned out quite well. I did 22 samples over four days of a color that I had dyed before. In the end, the dye formula I used was the first one—my old tried and true with only two dyes and a toner.*
The final answer was NOT one of those last skeins as I’d hoped in last week’s post, but it was a simple matter of changing the depth of shade slightly before I had it. Matching a color in yarn, including the feeling and depth of that color, isn’t a one-shot deal. Maybe if this had been the yarn I usually dye it could have been, but it was not my yarn. I started by dyeing 8 colors in jars from several different formulas. Some were sort of close, some were not remotely close. In one I inverted the proportion of colors when writing out the formula and ended up with hot pink.
Those have to dry and then I try again. And again. And one last time. And then the sample matched the color on the final yarn. The hue was right and the depth of shade (basically the value) was finally correct.
While I am perfectly happy to do sample after sample of dyed yarn, my second project was not quite as satisfying. I am still sewing masks. Just for myself and my partner. I’ve been working on this on and off for months, but finally got the fabric and elastic I ordered and so I settled down to make the right set of masks that would last us months or years and hopefully protect us and those around us from the coronavirus.
I became frustrated with the mask project fairly quickly. I think my willingness to dye samples for days speaks to my love of yarn. Making masks is something that I wish wasn’t necessary and though I am a competent sewist, it isn’t my favorite thing to spend time on any more. Don’t get me wrong. The masks are of utmost importance and we have several good ones already. But they don’t fit perfectly and they are made out of ugly fabric which I dug out of the bottom of a bin in March. If I have to wear a mask for the next year or two, I want to have some that fits well, protects me and my family as well as can be expected, is comfortable, and can be found readily at hand whenever needed. Masks that work differently for hiking and visiting stores are also needed. I want a mask that can ride around my neck for hiking that can be pulled up quickly if I’m in a tight spot with people approaching and no place to step off the trail. I don’t want to mess with having to use two hands to put elastic behind my ears while on the trail because I use trekking poles. But for going to the store, elastic behind the ears fits best and is quickest.
Do you see how my brain works? The two people in this house have very different sized faces to make matters more complicated. I’m going through all these steps to make two different kinds of “the perfect” mask for two differently-sized people. I have now tried at least 5 mask patterns and none are quite right for the smaller-faced person among us. I’ve now started modifying the shape of one pattern to try to get it to fit better. I’m getting closer, but I’m going to have a nice pile of masks that don’t fit when I’m done (don’t worry, I’ll find someone to give them to). I am running out of nose wires, but at least 1/4 inch elastic is in plentiful supply.
Fortunately, the wide metal closures on Tate’s and Trader Joe’s GF cookies make excellent nose wires.***
“Successively closer approximations.”
That is how I roll. **
*I hope I learned my lesson. If I had just trusted my experience and gone with the first formula, I would have been done dyeing this project about three days sooner. Given my love of sampling, I doubt it.
**I believe this is also why I like to work in series when weaving tapestries. I get an idea but it takes me quite a few tries before I have explored it or perfected it to my liking.
***Diabetes nonwithstanding.