Trolling for Yarn

Before hearing back from the publisher about whether my design(s) would be accepted or shunned for their new crochet tome, I contacted Rio de la Plata Yarns (creators of the “heated coals” wool that I used for the Mixed Grill Wrap) to see if they would perhaps like to sponsor little ole me should I, in fact, be selected as one of the designers for said text. I know, jumping the gun. Whatever. Call me an opportunist, but the thought of acquiring free yarn is like winning the lottery. Okay, not really, but you get the picture. Anyway, aside from the occasional fluffy yarn-y goodness type of ROAK that I receive from various blogging buds, I am usually pulling out the wallet to get my fiber-crack fix. Now, this little factoid doesn’t prevent me from enhancing my stash in any way. Oh no! I spend lots of dinero on yarn. LadyLinoleum is always fiber-filled. I digress.

At any rate, a potential publishing deal is definitely opportunity loudly wrapping at my door. So, I emailed the guys at Rio de la Plata, inquiring as to their interest in sponsorship, and was met with a, “Sure, c’mon down and pick up what you need!” Fortunately for me, the offices of Rio de la Plata are on the Westside, my digs. Easy to get to during one’s cube farm lunch hour.

Let me backup a bit here. Some of you may not know this about me, but I have perfected the art of yarn shopping on my lunch hour. Oh yes, I can get to and from any number of yarn establishments in West Los Angeles, Santa Monica or Culver City from my office in Century City in just under an hour, making my lunch hours calorie free yet full of fiber! Now those expeditions require me to shell out lots and lots of clams for said wooly wares, which by the way doesn’t stop me from taking this type-o-lunch several (and I mean numerous) times per month. Hey, my job sucks. Yarn shopping during my lunch hour is like a huge dose of fluffy furry vicodin for my poor, unfortunate, overworked soul. I’m just saying.

Anyhoo, this lunch hour yarn-run was altogether different. This time I was going to pick up freebies and I was about to find out the location of a font of yarn goodness. Peeps, it just doesn’t get much better than this. Or does it? Read on…

So, I went downstairs to pick up the other known fiber-crack addict in the office, my creative cohort Briana, to accompany me on said yarn jaunt. We drove pedal-to-the-metal to a rather strange looking late 90’s po-mo, cinder block/multicolored concrete, industrial knock-off style commercial/residential complex on the Western edges of the City of Santa Monica where upon entry we were ushered through a maze of hallways, flights of stairs, exposed air ducts, myriad glass block and buffed concrete floors by a wide-eyed, fifty-something, gregarious, very honey-blonded, slightly Stepfordesque receptionist to the sliding front door that marked the entrance to the offices of my new yarn pimp. The purple offices of my new yarn pimp. With gold sofas. And glass top tables. No, I am not kidding. Briana was speechless. I, on the other hand, am quite comfortable in most environments even the purple, gold, glass variety and have been known to entertain myself in conversation with walls, even if they are a lovely shade of electric plum. And anyway, I was a woman on a mission. A free yarn mission to be exact. I would not be deterred, grape-ade walls or no.

Enter the yarn dudes. Two very cordial men of the strand, so to speak. Actually, only Mauricio (fearless leader of the Rio de la Plata empire I believe) spoke to us at length. The other yarn dude just stuck his hand up in the air in greeting then continued to tap away at his keyboard pretending that we didn’t pierce a hole in his purple-y mist. Okay by me.

After a couple of minutes of conversation with Mauricio he informed me that they are looking for a local designer to help them promote their threads. Only, get this, they want someone who has an unusual sensibility. Briana assured the nice yarn boys that I, in fact, am a designer with a very unusual sensibility. So, I gave them my website addy, Mauricio bagged up my wondrous wool and we said we’d keep in touch.

I haven’t heard from him.

Mr. Mauricio may be beyond horrified that I turned his luxurious fluffdom into hot coals. Hey, he said he was looking for unusual! Do you think he may have been shocked by weenie links and intarsia meat on a grill???