I’ve got eleventy-twelve patterns to write up, a studio to clear out, a Christmas tree to put up, and a whole multitude of other things demanding my attention – but oh lordy, social media has been absolutely on fire about this topic lately (when is it not), and I figured it was high time we addressed it properly.
Yes, even here in the mid-twenty-twenties, a supposed time of elightenment and supposed open-mindedness (lol) some people in our beautiful yarn community are still recycling the same tired, judgmental tropes about how makers should only use certain types of yarn. According to these voices, acrylic yarns apparently don’t belong in “serious” crafting and if you’re very lucky and happen upon the most unhinged varieties, are single-handedly responsible for ecosystem collapse, ozone depletion, deforestation, and probably the global financial crisis. It’s getting real out there, craft family.
In all seriousness, it’s astonishing that this mindset still lingers, especially when our community should be about creativity, accessibility, and joy and not gatekeeping or shaming people for the materials they use. Call me childish and naive, but a part of me genuinely thought this discussion would have died a dignified death by now. And yet… here I am, writing this.
Maybe it’s my advancing years (although we don’t talk about that), but I’ve found myself getting more and more enraged by certain things: people who don’t respect personal space, entitlement, the ones who try to edge in front of you in the supermarket queue, all of that everyday nonsense. But as a member of our wonderful (normally wonderful) crafting community, there’s something that’s really started to get up my nose: the sheer privilege some crafters carry without the faintest idea of how other people actually live. I am getting very, very irritated by the closed-minded, judgemental nonsense that rears its ugly head every few months and thought it was high time that I ranted about it. I’m also kind of done with constantly trying to explain to people who should already know this just how damaging it is to have this exclusionary attitude. I guess that from now on I can just copy and paste the link to this article instead of getting into endless discussons on Threads!
So let’s talk about yarn snobbery: why it sucks, why judging others for their yarn choices is deeply embarrassing behaviour, and a few other things in between.
What is a yarn snob?
This is an important distinction to make.
A yarn snob, in this context, is not simply someone who enjoys beautiful, high-quality, luxurious yarn. Most of us love that. Unless you have a wool allergy or just don’t like the feel of natural fibres, I think it’s safe to say the vast majority of us would be thrilled to spend our days working with cashmere, mulberry silk, alpaca, yak, whatever beautiful fibre we could get our hands on. Luxurious yarn is wonderful. Loving it is wonderful. There’s nothing wrong with that.
But for many of us, using those fibres all the time is completely unrealistic. Sometimes it’s a financial limitation. For others it’s allergies or sensory sensitivities. Sometimes it’s ethical concerns, environmental considerations, geographic access, or simply living somewhere where the fanciest fibre in the shop is a basic, scratchy acrylic DK that’s been sitting on the shelf since 1987. Whatever the reason, luxury yarn simply isn’t accessible for everyone.
And let me be clear: loving luxury yarn doesn’t make you a yarn snob. I love it too. I can’t afford to buy it constantly, but I am fortunate enough to receive some very nice yarns occasionally from generous companies for review, and I’m genuinely grateful.
But that is not what makes someone a yarn snob.
A yarn snob is someone who not only loves high-end fibres but also looks down on people who cannot use them, whether due to cost, allergies, geographic limitations, or personal preference. They judge those people. Sometimes they even judge their skill based on the yarn they choose. They act superior simply because they can afford something someone else can’t. They judge people for using acrylic yarn and berate them for it, even though knitting with man-made fibre doesn’t have any impact on the health of our planet at all. Fight me about it, it’s negligable. They are usually a high-and-mighty type, who swear down that they live a plastic-free life, wear 100% natural fibres at all times (do me a favour) and never buy anything mass-produced. Basically, a lot of these people are full of shit, and really don’t understand the first thing about the environmental impact of fibre arts. In fact, most people who genuinely care about the environment also genuinely care about people in general, including people’s individual budgets, circumstances and limitations.
If you fall into the first category – the “I just really love beautiful yarn” category – I’m right there with you. If you fall into the second category, well… shut the door on your way out, Beryl.
Now we’ve got that clear, let’s have a detailed look at some reasons why being a yarn snob isn’t the flex you think it is.
Natural fibres aren’t the right choice for everyone
This should be obvious, but apparently it isn’t. Wool allergies exist. Texture sensitivities exist. Sensory disorders exist. People live in hot climates where wool sweaters might actually cause spontaneous combustion. People live on budgets where any yarn is a luxury.
Natural fibres are beautiful, but they’re not universal.
It excludes people
When you insist that “serious” crafters must use natural fibres, you’re not just making a snobby comment, you’re actively excluding people and building a crappy barrier to entry. You’re making a hobby that should be welcoming into something elitist and uncomfortable and by doing that, you’re disrespecting the very history of our crafts. Knitting and crochet are rooted in accessibility, resourcefulness, making-do, creativity, and community, not in gatekeeping and price tags.
Reducing waste is great in theory but impractical for many, a.k.a “Acrylicgate”
Acrylic yarn is plastic yarn, we all know that. We also know that sustainability matters, of course it does, but ethical crafting requires nuance. Not everyone can afford locally-produced, ethically-sourced fibres. Not everyone has access to second-hand supplies. Not everyone has time to frog projects endlessly or source reclaimed materials. Not everyone has the funds or privilege to wear 100% natural fibres all the time. I also don’t believe those people, sorry.
Also, I really hope that if you’re an acrylic-slating yarn snob you are taking up your environmental issues with big business like Amazon and Temu and not ordering stuff from them as well. It’s easier to pick on crafters who use acrylic than those big boys, isn’t it? The environmental impact of crafting with acrylic yarn is a drop in the ocean and targeting crafters is like blaming people with reusable plastic food tuppers for the climate crisis. On top of that, and speaking as someone who has worked in product development for a couple of eco-friendly yarn brands, let me remind you that natural yarns have their own issues that can compete with man-made fibres:
- Wool requires hella land, water, feed, transportation
- Cotton is notorious for pesticide use and water consumption
- Silk has ethical questions and resource use
- Local availability varies, creating transport emissions
It’s not as simple as “natural = good, acrylic = bad.”
One of the most hilarious exhanges I had was with someone suggesting that low-income crafters should pop off down to their local charity shop (not understanding that charity shops don’t exist in many countries and if they do they’re actually really expensive these days), buy a load of sweaters and unravel them. Very nice, very mindful, very eco-friendly, but not a viable or practical option for most of us, especially for designers. Let’s be real.
Comparison culture sucks (and so does gatekeeping)
Comparison culture may be as old as time, but social media has blown it into an overwhelming, always-on phenomenon. Whether you’re scrolling constantly, dipping in occasionally, or following only a few accounts, comparison is everywhere, right?
I didn’t fully realise how deep comparison culture had seeped into our crafting community until I ran headfirst into the yarn-snobbery discourse. Suddenly it wasn’t just about comparing houses or holidays, it was comparing materials, fibres, tools, and who was “worthy.”
It turns admiration into self-doubt. It turns inspiration into insecurity. And worst of all, it convinces people that their worth as a crafter is tied to the cost of their materials. This is categorically false.
Your yarn does not determine your skill
Some of the best makers in our community use a wide range of materials, such as mixing fibres, exploring textures, incorporating bargain finds, working across all budgets. Some of my favourite designers, especially those creating blankets and homeware, use acrylic almost exclusively. Their work is absolutely stunning and stands the test of time.
The type of yarn you use has nothing to do with your ability.
Class bias is real
If you are fortunate enough to afford expensive yarn, I’m thrilled for you. No sarcasm. However, class divides, financial barriers and the dreaded COZZY LIVS is a problem for most of us. If you entertain yarn snobbery you are feeding into class bias and that isn’t a good look.
Handmade is handmade
And here’s the heart of it all:
Handmade is handmade.
If you’re talented enough to knit or crochet at all, you are already amazing and you belong in every part of this community.
Whether you’re knitting with noodles, crocheting with a bit of old string you found down the back of the sofa, or working with the finest cashmere, you are valid, you are creative, and you are one of us.
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