I always wash my handwovens. I believe the technical term is "wet finishing" but really, I call it 'washing' because that's what I do. If it's a delicate fiber, I fill up a bucket, or a tub, or a sink with water and soap. If it's hand-dyed, I get out my special-fancy-dancy-for-dying-textiles suds, and then I do a second washing with el-cheapo shampoo. And then I add el-cheapo conditioner to the first rinse. Wool is sheep hair, right? Occasionally, if I want to make something easy-care cotton for the wearer of one my handwovens, I might throw it through the washer and dryer anyway. I want to know my gift can be worn, and abused, and take the punches that comes with living la vida loca.
But this embarrassment to all hand-woven kind was "ruuuu-iiiiiined!" and I no longer cared about it's outcome anyway. Die a long arduous death by heavy duty cycle. See what I care. I was finished, as far as I was concerned, and already plotting how I could cut it up and use it for something else.
Was I yet to be thwarted, again, by this scrap calling itself a scarf? Apparently yes, because it emerged from the dryer, soft, pliable, and lovely, if a bit plagued by static electricity. The fringe might have been standing on end, which might have cause my own hair to stick straight up in a lovely halo of brunette fuzz, but that minor issue was fixable, were I able to control the humidity and weather. Delighted by my own stupidity, er, happy accident, I finished the fringe and determined the scarf worthy to be worn. I showed it to a few people who immediately looked like I lost a few marbles, "What were you talking about? This is lovely."
I'm truly surprised at it's transformation just from taking a whirl in the spin cycle. Now, I'm left to question, what are the chances of my being able to replicate the experiment twice?
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