On felting and why I am crap at it.
Well, technically, that should take the form of a question, really, which is where I hope that the wonders of the internets will kick in. Yesterday afternoon, the small girl and I, armed with a large bowl of hot soapy water and myriad balls of coloured roving, sat down to make some felt balls. (Much to my intense amusement, this caused the shrieking of ‘fat bells! fat bells!’ on the part of a certain diminutive person of my acquaintance, all the way down the stairs from the big bed where we had slept, all the way through the sitting room and past the previously-sleeping cats, and all the way around the kitchen as I got bits and bobs ready for us.) We have some gorgeous 100% wool roving dyed with natural dyes, thanks to a trip to the Yarner Trust‘s Christmas fair back at the start of December of last year, and by gum, we are not afraid to use them.
Well.
Hum.
‘Fear’ is, of course, not quite the right word, but I confess that ‘trepidation’ might do rather well. For it seems that I am a bit crap at felting, dear reader: we took little chunks of the roving (and in some cases, rather large chunks may have been bandied about before making their way to the cats’ tails), we dutifully dunked, and rolled, and pressed, and dunked, and rolled, and whatnot, and finally I ended up putting them in some old tights, separated by rubber bands, and washing them in with a load of towels, to try to finish them off. The instructions we were following said that they would begin to sort of firm up, and the edges would be less woolly, and lo! there would be felt balls (or fat bells, depending). And… there were, sort of. But the edges are a bit wonky, and there are sticky-out bits which beg to be pulled at which speak of a short future and then lots of fluff. Where am I going wrong?
The other part of the project went quite well, though – I have long hankered after making my own felted dreads for hair-wearing usage, rather than buying the hair-band variety you get in pleasantly rainbow-coloured shops specialising in patchouli and patchwork, and with this in mind, I bought a few strands of rather lovely Colinette yarn (the name of which escapes me, but it’s gorgeous dark shades of blue with the odd flash of bright green, pink, red and yellow; I know – it sounds repugnant, but honestly it’s divine) and set about it with the water and the rubbing and whatnot, and this morning I sallied forth wearing said dready hairband thing in the birds’ nest I once called my hair. Verily, I am much pleased with it. The only thing is that next time I might twine two threads together to make the resulting felt a little more standy-uppy of its own accord; the chaotic works so well in this context, I find, and it does answer at least some of my brain’s constant demands for dreadlocks (a desire I have yet to resolve one way or the other; I still love dreads, and every time I see someone with them I think ‘oooh yes’, but then I think of the messy roots which seem inevitable, and I still have concerns about the whole washing issue… and on wears the long day).
(I now realise that this post would make a lot more sense with pictures, and will endeavour, small-teething-person permitting, to rectify this sad oversight this very afternoon.)
So, lovely readers, has anyone out there got any tips on how to improve my fat bells, please? I’d like to make a large jar of them, some multi-coloured, some single, as one of the small girl’s birthday presents (she will be two – TWO! – on June 1; where has the time gone?), but these first efforts aren’t terribly toddler-proof, and being me, and thus utterly poxy, I like to do things properly or not at all. Suggestions in’t comments box, please.
ok, so our first couple of attempts (and yogi’s continue so) were bumpy and lumpy and definitely not balls, and i discovered that absolutely no squishing must occur, just lots of rolling in the palm of my hand, and when lots of rolling and absolutely no squishing occured we had pretty much perfectly perfect balls, all neat and tidy and it lots of different beautiful naturally coloured colours, including Boo who was not quite 4 the last time we attempted felting (just not yogi’s of course but then she kind of squishes and smashes and rubs all over the table, and her face and then squishes and squashes and mashes and mushes a bit more… oh and then she leaves little soggy wet ‘balls’ all around wherever she goes)
i say try again, several times before giving up, i don’t mind making not so good quite crap balls but if that’s the case i’ll definitely pass them off as something created by a much smaller person than me and then continue to practise in secret until i have the perfect ball….
i hope that helps even a teenyweeny bit
ema
Well, the roving itself may be part of the problem. Different breeds of sheep have fleeces that felt differently. Some work really, really well. Some do not. Some sheep, like my Icelandics, are double-coated, and have longer and shorter individual fibres in the fleece, and the long ones are not as good at felting as the short ones. One can separate the fibres if one is at the beginning of the process, but in prepared roving, one doesn’t know what the process may have been. Of course, if by any chance it is “superwash” roving, then it wouldn’t work at all, because it’s been treated to not do so. If it happened to be “mill ends” from the processor, a mixing of different wools, then you could run into that same problem – some bits could felt well while other bits do not. After the washing, it’s true that you will have sticky-out bits and the surface will not be oh-so-smooth, but one can trim bits or do a quick hand-wash in hot water to clean up the surface. Is there a tag or information on your roving that says what breed of sheep it was? I would be more than happy to send you some roving that WILL felt if you just look at it sideways.
Sometimes adding a little washing up liquid to your hand helps. Also keep rolling in the hands, you will get there:)
ema: ‘i don’t mind making not so good quite crap balls but if that’s the case i’ll definitely pass them off as something created by a much smaller person than me’ – this made me laugh out loud.
Thanks for telling me it took you a while; I think perhaps I’m squishing too much, and skimping on the time…
Claire: I would love some roving! I do wonder if it’s partly that. Most of it feels a little oily, for want of a better term, as though there’s quite a bit of lanolin on it still. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad…? But I did notice that the merino wool roving that Quercus bought me felted straight off, just with rolling it around, while this stuff just keeps coming adrift ages later. I don’t mind trimming it here and there to tidy, but this just isn’t at that point, despite my best efforts.
ambermoggie: I had very soapy hands, somehow – I was using a spot of some Faith in Nature shampoo, mind; would that work as well, I wonder, or do you need more detergent-orientated stuff?
How about this site:
http://www.gfwsheep.com/feltballs/feltballs1.html
I’m guessing you’re using 100% wool roving, yes???
At least you know what roving *is*, which is more than I do.
Yes! Pictures! Head-wear! Please.
Most people start feltmaking by using merino tops as they are really easy to felt (as you’ve found!). Texere yarns is the cheapest place I know for obtaining them. http://www.texere-yarns.co.uk/texereshop/Dyed_Wool_Tops_-_Mixed_Bags.html . You can buy large quanitites of undyed and dye it yourself.
Fleece varies in its ability to felt, as has been said already. But, if your naturally dyed roving still feels oily, I’d think it has a problem… Natural dyes, despite how they sound, are actually often more environmentally damaging than mad-made dyes, because of the nature of the mordants that have to be used to make the colour take (even the least toxic, alum, is more toxic than many synthetic dyes). Given the heat and rinising involved in processing, if the end product feels like it contains lanolin still, I suspect it actually still contains chemicals from improper processing, or has been otherwise heat damaged (ie rinising in water at a different temperature to that it was in just before). Either of these would affect its ability to felt.
You could try washing, drying and recarding it before trying felting with it again, but I’d be tempted to start with merino tops, get some good results, then try again with more natural fleece. Properly prepared fleece should never feel anything other than soft.
Oh – and – having tried all sorts of feltmaking, I still think the best results come with using olive oil soap, which is also lovely for the hands. Not always easy to get hold of these days – except from specialist suppliers, who charge specialist prices. Some independent health food shops sometimes have it, as do street markets in the south of France. Or make your own!
Oh well, rest assured in not being the onlyone who is rubbish at wet felting. Ours had dips and holes in them and honestly took SO LONG it was boring rather than theraputic.
Now, needle felting, who. That’s good. But certianly not for little ones. Those needles are so so sore to prick yourself with and I’m not such a wimp.
Imperatrix: in a small world-esque manner, that is the very tutorial we used! And yes, 100% wool roving.
Dand: I will attempt to get a good picture, which is nearly impossible, and report back. Don’t tell me you have the inner Voice Of Dreads too?
BW: lots of food for thought there, for which thanks; our local healthfood shop does indeed sell the olive soap, so I shall purchase some forthwith. I have also armed myself with some merino tops. I want felt beads, dammit! *coughs* I mean, of course, that the small girl wants felt beads. Ahem.
mamauk: yes – Quercus did some needle felting at a Steiner toddler group, and produced a very decent little picture of a boat in only one session. I’m thinking of having a go at some point; must find out what is needed. Thanks for the prod, in fact!
Yes, but I was never cool enough. Or brave enough.
I sent you a message on FB asking about roving colour and where I should send it…