Why I love knitting with rustic yarn

I have been pretty obsessed with Holstgarn Supersoft since last autumn when I discovered it. I was already obsessed with a Spanish brand called dLana, because the rustic wool reminded me of the wool my grandma used to knit us socks with.

In summer I’d see her card the wool, wash it over fire, spin it and knit it into warm socks and sweaters for all family members. They had sheep, my grandparents and they were soft and friendly.

Processing wool from scratch took a long time, but every chore had its time and place in the village.

My mother tells me stories of my grand-grand-mother drying petals and herbs, and waking up at dawn in summer to make soap. On the day of soap-making diners were simple and everybody had to manage on their own. Then soap was made and dried for the whole year.

In comparison, turning fleece into yarn was a much longer process, from my grandpa shearing it in summer when the sheep enjoyed the breeze, to cleaning it before autumn when it was spinned and knit. All winter, sitting cozy by the fire, my grandma would knit.

A few years ago, when I learned how to knit socks, I made her a pair in undyed wool, the same she used to knit with, and it felt magical to see her joy and see her wearing it. My grandma doesn’t knit anymore but I in the last few years I’ve learned so much about it and I’ve become so enchanted by the slow practice of making fabric hoop by hoop.

So when I use this rustic yarn, and I know it’s a hype thing at the moment, I connect with her and that kind of life, full of work, much harder, but which to me, living in a big city, sounds magical. I love the scratchiness of rough wool, the lack of shine, the definition, and how warm it is.