Setbacks in the search for velvet

I finally gave up rinsing, though I got enough of the blue out that the rinse water was only tinted. Then I beamed the warp onto the loom:

The trick of “crocheting” around the warp before dyeing seems to have helped. Despite a zillion rinses, the warp went on smoothly with a minimum of tangling and very few loose threads. Much better than other painted warps I’ve done before.

The warp is not perfect. As you can see in the photo, there are some undyed white bits where the warp stuck together and didn’t take the dye. They’re sprinkled throughout the warp, a few here and there, just enough to be truly irritating (and ruin perfection).

I’m pretty sure that the problem was too short a presoak, and/or not scouring (washing) the yarn prior to dyeing. I dumped it straight into a soda ash solution and painted it twelve hours later; the yarn clumped together and never got entirely wet. Because it was still dry in places, the dye didn’t absorb properly despite my best efforts. I should have known better; that’s what comes of rushing.

Now, the choice: leave the flawed warp on, or spend another week winding and dyeing a replacement?

If I were to weave this warp off, I’d have to either fix or cover up any white bits while weaving, which would be time-consuming and produce a less-than-perfect result.

If I were to discard it, I’d lose a week’s work and all the trouble that went into winding, dyeing, and endless rinsing. Plus the effort of putting the warp onto the loom!

Regret over lost time and effort, however, is not the best way to make decisions. Economists call this the “sunk-cost fallacy,” and it generally leads to throwing good resources (time, energy, money) after bad. We develop attachment to anything we’ve spent a lot of time and energy on, so often we waste MORE time and energy trying to “rescue” a failing project when walking away and starting over would make much more sense.

This applies to many things beyond weaving projects. For example, someone who got a law degree but then realized they hate practicing law, might feel they “ought” to stay in law because they spent a lot of time and effort getting that degree. And then spend the next 10-15 years as a lawyer, hating their job. Better to get out as soon as possible, so you aren’t suffering for more years or decades because you made a wrong decision earlier.

Seth Godin has an excellent method for overcoming the sunk-cost fallacy. Instead of thinking about the time and effort you’ve already put in, think of whatever you have now as a gift, freely given, from your past self. You can accept that gift…or say “Thank you, it’s not for me.”

So. Past Self gave me (thank you!) a warp that is dyed and on the loom, but which has flaws. Do I keep the gift, and spend another 200 hours working with it? Or do I politely decline, and start over?

I spent a couple days mulling this and decided to start over. The amount of time I’d spend twiddling with fixes is far greater than the cost of creating a new warp. I politely thanked Past Self for the gift, though. It was thoughtful of her to get the process started, even if her gift isn’t what I need right now.

So the new warp is wound, PROPERLY dyed, and in the rinse cycle. Hopefully the cycle won’t be endless this time!

Meanwhile, I have finished rinsing another warp. This one is destined to be samples (in many different colorways) for a class about painted warps. It’s 17 yards long, so that is a lot of weaving to do!

On the powerlifting front, some major successes. I’m testing my 1RMs this week. The 1RM is short for “one-rep max,” which is the most weight you can lift, just once. In August, my squat 1RM was 300 pounds. Today, I lifted 310! That is ten pounds of progress in just four months – that is amazing for someone who’s been lifting as long as I have. I LOVE my coach!

I had to fight like heck for this one, though. You can actually hear me say “nope” about halfway through to signal my spotters that I was not going to be able to lift it. Of course, as soon as I did, the weight FINALLY started moving. I’m glad they didn’t believe me!

310 pounds, of course, is 1,240 weasels, for those who remember my first powerlifting post in 2018. I was measuring weights in Standard Weasels (aka four ounces), and my long-term goal was just 700 weasels.

And now? The USPA national record for my age/weight class is only 325 pounds (1,300 weasels). I’d need to beat it by at least 5 pounds to set a new record, so my goal is 330 pounds, or 1,320 weasels.