Is this one of those learning experiences?

So over my holiday break I sat down with a design in mind -- not just some random design, but a very special design, one that I had sketched out in my Very Special Crochet Notebook (bought at a stationery shop in Japantown, San Francisco -- I'm telling you, this paper is buttery) and all but finished in my head. It was beautiful, it was functional, it was brilliant. Now all I had to do was crochet it.

Not so fast, Mad Crocheter!

Oh... crap. What the hell was Snidely Whiplash doing here? I did my best to ignore him and soldiered on.

Before I get any further in this sad tale, let me tell you about the yarn I had selected for this project. Better yet, my yarn, let me show you it. (So I think I'm a lolcat. So sue me.) It's Kaalund Enchante from the good folks at Knitch, lace-weight Australian silk, colorway Pawpaw (so I like pink, so sue me. Again. It's not like I have any money, I spent it all on yarn).

From the moment I brought this beauty home from the store, I knew what I wanted to do with it: lace fingerless gloves. They would be delicate and luxurious and so, so beautiful.

And this is where it gets really embarrassing.

See, at this point I had already received my copy of Camanomade's Secrets of Yarn Project Guide. And there it was in black and white. Silk. Stretch Memory: None. But I was so determined that I knew I could work with it. So I picked up my (tiny, tiny) hook and got started.

And then after a while it dawned on me that not only was this not working, it hadn't even put forth the effort to call in sick. The total lack of stretch was not going to do anything for warming my arms. The yarn just kind of hung on my arm, looking like a stretched-out-of-shape friendship bracelet. That beautiful vision in my head? It dissolved in a ring of loopy triple crochet.

And now I'm actually feeling kind of upbeat about it.

I figure massive miscalculations like this one are part of the whole process of learning to design. Didn't Anne of Green Gables say something about making mistakes was okay, because then she didn't make the same ones again? You always learn more from your failures than your successes (and when I say "you", I mean "me"). I learned some information that I'm in the process of repurposing. And I think I've still got enough silk left for a pretty little scarf. (Actually, I don't really wear scarves, not as a fashion accessory, but I think I'd better start.)

Of course, none of this was a consolation at the time. This is one of the benefits of getting some perspective before blogging, unless of course you'd rather read an entire post of "#$@*&$ %@$#%& *#@^$*@!!"