The Designer, the Hook, and the Ball of Yarn
(My crochet version of the man, the boy, and the donkey)
Once upon a time there was a crochet designer (Me) who had a lovely ball of yarn (That was certainly NOT GREEN) and a shiny crochet hook. She decided she would design a beautiful pattern to share with the world.
She sat down and began.
Soon someone said,
“Why are you using that yarn? Everyone knows cotton is better.”
So she changed the yarn.
Then another voice said,
“Cotton? Oh no. Acrylic is much more practical.”
So she changed the yarn again.
She started crocheting.
Someone else said,
“That stitch is far too complicated. Beginners won’t like it.”
So she simplified the stitch.
Another person frowned and said,
“Well now it’s too basic. Experienced crocheters will be bored.”
So she made the stitch more intricate again.
She worked on the design all night.
Someone said,
“It should be a blanket.”
So she made it a blanket.
Another person said,
“Blankets take too long. People prefer quick projects.”
So she turned it into a scarf.
A third person chimed in,
“Scarves are overdone. You should make garments.”
So she tried turning it into a sweater.
By now the designer had a pile of half-finished ideas, a very confused ball of yarn, and a crochet hook that looked like it needed a lie down.
Finally an old crocheter passing by stopped and watched for a moment.
Then she said,
“My dear, if you try to crochet for everyone, you’ll never finish a single stitch.”
The designer looked at her tangled yarn, picked up her hook again, and said,
“Right then… I’m making what I like.”
And strangely enough…
once she did that, plenty of people liked it too.
Moral of the story:
In crochet design, if you try to please everyone, you’ll end up with nothing but a tangled skein and a headache.
Better to make the thing that makes your hook happy.
And the funny thing is… designing crochet has taught me far more life lessons than I ever expected.
Lesson One: Be yourself.
I don’t want to fit in a box. I don’t want to follow trends. I want to step over the lines and draw my own boundaries.
Pattern sales are wonderful when they happen — and yes, I do like eating — but more importantly I want to be proud of my designs. I want to look at them and think, that’s mine. In my mind I occasionally picture them on a catwalk somewhere… which may or may not involve models dramatically swishing around in very complicated shawls.
A designer can dream.
Lesson Two: Everything annoys someone.
That’s actually a quote from Ricky Gervais, and I suspect he knows what he’s talking about.
If you are not annoying someone, you are probably sitting alone in a room talking to yourself.
You can spend hours making a short video to show off a design. Lighting, angles, editing… the works. Someone will give it a thumbs-down. Why? Who knows. Maybe they hate the colour. Maybe they hate crochet. Maybe they hate Tuesdays.
Someone, somewhere, will take offence at something you do.
In fact, there is probably someone annoyed right now that I quoted Ricky Gervais.
Lesson Three: I am not nearly as clever as I think I am.
Send a pattern to testers and you will very quickly discover the glaringly obvious mistake you somehow managed to overlook.
The one that you read past seventeen times.
Testing is always a humbling experience.
There are designers who say, “Oh, I don’t need testers. I checked the pattern myself.”
Well… good for them.
Personally, I need my testers. They check my maths, my instructions, my sanity, and occasionally my eyesight. They also provide a healthy and regular reminder that I am, in fact, human.
Lesson Four: Crochet skill levels are… flexible.
One person’s intermediate is another person’s advanced. Everyone learns at their own pace and their own level, and that is perfectly fine.
But if you see the word intermediate, it usually means there may be a few slightly tricky bits involved.
Interestingly, it is often the people who are “advanced” — “I have been crocheting for fiiiiiiifty years” — who believe there must be an error or that the pattern should have been written differently.
How do I know they’ve been crocheting for fifty years?
Because that is usually the opening sentence of their message.
I am occasionally tempted to reply,
“Wow… you must be very tired.”
Lesson Five: Humour helps.
If you design long enough you will make mistakes, someone will dislike your work, someone will misunderstand your instructions, and someone will absolutely insist their way of crocheting is the only correct way.
If you can’t laugh a little, you probably won’t last very long.
And perhaps the real lesson is this:
Designing is a strange mix of creativity, stubbornness, problem-solving, and the occasional small crisis involving stitch counts.
But it is also incredibly satisfying to turn a ball of yarn into something that didn’t exist before — and then see someone else in the world make it with their own hands.
That part never gets old.
So I will keep designing.
My testers will keep finding my mistakes.
Someone will keep telling me they’ve been crocheting for fifty years.
And somewhere out there, hopefully, someone will be enjoying the process of making something beautiful from my design.
Which, when you think about it, is the whole point.
Find my patterns on Etsy and Ravelry.
