Let's talk about scraps.
Scrap yarn, scrap fabric, scrap paper...
Junk drawers and twist ties and loose beads and scattered bobby pins.
We all have these, right? In our own little nests of tidbits, the pieces are conglomerated in a matrix of "But I might need that."
I finally did the thing I've been waiting to do "when I have a big enough stash for it." I'm at the part of my scrap quilt where I need to make decisions on how all these log cabin squares are going to fit together and I'm realizing that this project isn't even putting a dent in my fabric stash. . . I'm using some of my favorite fabrics. The "I'll use this when I really know what I'm doing" fabric. But the thing is, I don't think I'll ever feel like I really know what I'm doing. These craft materials that I'm treating so precious aren't being used for anything! They are more use to me as a lovely patches in a crazy quilt (that I'll see every day) than a folded up fat quarter on a shelf. And realistically, what else would a fat quarter of fabric be good for besides a quilt block or a length of bias binding?
I learn something about craft and The Process(tm) with every project. It's kind of my favorite part about fiber arts. This scrap quilt, my ball of scrap yarn, and the things I've crocheted in this 2025 no-buy year taught me a few things about myself.
The first and most apparent is that I have enough.
I have enough yarn. I'm good on yarn! (I just don't like the yarn I have...) I can't stand acrylic anymore. It dries out my hands and makes my eyes water while I'm working with it. So I donated a lot of my smaller skeins to my library for their children's department. Acrylic has its uses, like water bottle slings and coasters. I just think it's primary use is to be glued onto construction paper rainbows by children still developing their fine motor skills.
The second lesson I learned is that I need to account for the scraps I save.
No not a spreadsheet. I won't yuck anyone's spreadsheet yum, but I personally won't do that outside of my day job. My scraps have places they go depending on the type and size. Because I've already decided who goes where, I don't have to think about how to save my scraps. Like should go with like. My scrap fabric that is smaller than a Barbie dress amount (super scientific and precise, I know) goes in a basket. Anything bigger gets folded up and stored with fat quarters. Anything so small I couldn't possibly use to sew either goes with my fiber spinning stuff for incorporations or into an ottoman stuffed only with fabric scraps. Yarn-wise, my acrylic scraps longer than two feet are set aside to make a scrap skein as pictured below. Scraps smaller than that go with my spinning materials. Paper scraps for collages get filed into a tub with other collage supplies.
Lastly, I need to remember that I'm playing with string.
It's not necessary to suffer for your art. That's just not being prepared. I should know, I start my machine without checking my bobbin all the time. Then I suffer because of my bobbin hubris. Making things is supposed to be fun! And it is even when I'm out of thread or lost my game of yarn chicken. The creative problem solving that comes as the next step is a big reason why I love working with scraps. The limits and arbitrary constraints you apply to a project is where the creative play lives! Getting things "perfect" takes the play out of it. Perfect is the enemy of done.
But a whole year of working with scraps? To be honest, I got tired of it.
My no-buy year turned into a low-buy year. I bought yarn and fabric from a local thrift store that only carried craft materials. In a way, that's just like someone else's scraps. But the things that I wanted to make didn't line up with the materials I already had. In deciding on projects, I tend to fall in love with a pattern, decide on color, and then find materials to fit my vision. But when working with what you already have, you can't be married to the idea in your head of what you hope it'll turn out to be. You have to leave a lot of wiggle room for that creative play and problem solving that is inherent to scraps. For example, the vest I tested earlier this year was all made from yellow scraps I already had saved. Aside from the time I spent making it, it was like free clothes! But because I was just starting my low-buy year, I had an idea of what it would turn out to be. So when it was done I was disappointed in what I made. (I've gotten over it though. I misread the pattern in multiple places and should've sized down)
Overall, I've decided scrap projects are a sometimes food for me. When it works well, it feels great to make something from nothing. But they absolutely aren't all winners. Moving forward in my crafting, I'll continue to keep track of my scraps, but not stop myself from using a new (to me) bolt of fabric for a dress exactly how I want it.
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