I'm being driven to madness and it's all because of a stupid hat. During my trip to Columbia, I picked up a wonderful skein of K'acha yarn. Spun in Peru, it's a multi-tonal blend of Merino wool, Suri alpaca, and silk. Truly beautiful stuff.
I made a rookie mistake and didn't really think about what I wanted to make with it. "A hat," I told myself in the car, "I'll make a hat." When I parked and looked at the tag, I recieved a rude awakening. I only had 98yards. Of course I only had 98 yards. How much did I think there could be in a cute little skein?
For the next few days I searched Ravelry for a pattern that would allow me to combine the beautiful but limited supply of K'acha with some leftover brown tweed from the Sideways Grande hat. To makes things more complex, the friend who requested the hat desired a slouchy one with cables and/or lace. Harrumph.
I finally settled on a pattern and cast-on Monday night. While knitting, I kept reasuring myself that the yarns did indeed match, the pattern was a winner and that the project had all the other necessary properties of a cute hat. Despite my constant reassurance, a gnawing feeling began building in the pit of my stomach. I ignored it. I was still convinced of the hat's cuteness when I bound off Tuesday afternoon (yes that was some fast knitting, especially when you consider that Tuesdays are my busiest days). The second I put it on, however, it dawned on me.
The hat was ugly. Ugly, ugly, UGLY. I tried to convince myself otherwise. The yarn was beautiful, after all. I even went through the trouble of blocking it. That was a mistake. Made it even uglier. Too slouchy. I would only look good on someone with huge dreadlocks.
I discovered it's harder that one might think to capture ugliness on camera when that is the goal. You'll have to take my word for it. U.G.L.Y.
By this point I had already sent a text message off to the recipient and recieved an excited reply. Thankfully I had refrained from including a picture. I quickly performed some damage control. In the knitting world, this means I cast on for a new hat. It's a rather delightful number with texture and subtle slouch. I am a believer in its cuteness 100%.
Risk management hat, also known as Molly
In on last sad attempt to save the ugly hat, I attempted to wear it to the library today. I quickly took it off the second a stranger neared. Thankfully, I had thought to bring a backup hat with me. This one is gray and inoffensive.
The rejected ugly-cute hat just stares at me from the armrest.
"Why don't you love me, Kaylin?"
I'll pull it apart this weekend. I think the K'acha is destined to be a nice headband or something. Some of you will no doubt try to convince me that this hat is not ugly, but I have come to terms with the truth and cannot be convinced otherwise.
Sometimes bad knitting happens to good people.