Here’s the downside of asking for opinions on what color I should use for the last, outside stripe of my Fort Tryon Wrap: I have to decide whose advice to follow. People have strong opinions about color. Color makes us feel; it makes us react. And it’s hard to communicate color sense in words. I say, “I want it to have that Missoni clash of the unexpected, yet perfect.” Someone else says, “That yellowy green may be unexpected, but it’s perfectly awful.” That’s how color works.
I sat with the conflicting advice (most of it skewing anti-Green Tea), and two things tipped the balance for me. The first was Jill Draper’s matter-of-fact assurance that I should stick with the fifth color we’d originally picked, together, at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival last May. I said, “Missoni,” she got what I meant, and these are the five colors we ended up with (admittedly from a reduced range of Jill Draper Makes Stuff Esopus colors–the Maryland swarm can pick a yarn stall clean in a matter of hours). I have long admired Jill’s color sense, the way her joyful attitude toward color intersects with bold, pattern-forward clothing. It’s infectious and inspiring. I wanted to dance with the girl who brought me to this party.
The second factor was that I was there, at the last stripe, and I had in my hand that skein of Esopus in Green Tea. In my knitting life, many projects have been put aside temporarily while I searched for the right buttons, or the perfect edging color, or even for a few yards of a yarn that had run short. Sometimes those projects get buried for years. They languish, unfinished and unworn, and sometimes are not resurrected until my taste has moved on to something else entirely. I didn’t want that to happen to my Fort Tryon Wrap. I want it, and I want to wear it this fall, and I’m not going to stand for any self-sabotaging crap about this from myself.
Green Tea it is, and I like it. So there.