The tutti-fruiti bobble sweater of doom

I keep ogling patterns that will never be useful to me. Patterns I will never personally wear for any of a number of reasons (too flashy, too multi-hued too impractical, too expensive, not suited to my body shape), patterns I will never gift (for any of the above reasons, but also including: too involved, too likely to be taken the wrong way, too likely to never be worn)… even patterns I find hideously tacky.

I want to knit them. I don’t want to deal with them after that… I want them to disappear into a nether void, leaving only yarn scats. Heck, I don’t even want to buy the yarn for them—if only I had an anonymous tacky yarn donor. I’m just hankering to sit in a corner somewhere, knitting up an Andean folk hat (categories: too multi-hued, too flashy) with size 2 needles while thirty bobbins of different colors dangle around me.

I’m trying to look at this positively: I want to widen my horizons, don’t I? I want to work on something challenging, don’t I? But the next time I spend ten minutes in Craft Warehouse petting a skein of Voodoo on steep discount, I’m going to need a minder on hand to keep me from buying it just because “I want to knit that texture!”

(I compromised—two skeins of black mohair and some St. Charles collazione Ritratto instead. In lime.)