When to Fix It and When to Let It Go
Okay. Last time you learned to frog and to pick your stitches back up again, so now you've got the tools to fix pretty much anything. Which brings up the real question. Do you always want to?
No. You don't.
Not every mistake earns a frogging. Some of them just earn a shrug. Part of getting good at this isn't learning to fix things, it's learning to sort them, and that's what we're doing today.
The test I actually use
Here's how I decide, and it's not complicated. I look at the mistake and ask two things:
Will anybody else ever notice it? Not "can I see it, because I know it's there and I'm staring right at it." Will a stranger, using this washcloth, ever clock that something's off. Usually the answer is no.
Does it affect how the thing works? A washcloth needs to be roughly square-ish, roughly even, and made of cotton so it actually cleans something. That's the whole job description. If a mistake doesn't get in the way of that job, it's cosmetic, and cosmetic problems are optional.
If a mistake fails both tests — nobody would ever see it, and it doesn't matter for function — I let it go. Every time. I do not lose sleep over a washcloth.
If a mistake fails the second test, though — if it's actually distorting your work, pulling your edges in, making one corner poke out like a little flag — that's a fix-it, no negotiating.
Where people get this backwards
New crocheters tend to do the opposite of what I just said. They'll frog eight rows over something invisible, and then live with a genuinely wonky edge because ripping back feels like too big a project. I understand the instinct. Ripping back is annoying. But if you're gonna spend your frustration budget, spend it on the mistake that's actually wrecking your project, not the one only you can see.
I told you a couple lessons back about frogging a whole afghan over one mistake six inches down that bugged me every single time I looked at it. That one earned it. It was structural to my peace of mind, if nothing else, and I stand by pulling out weeks of work for it. But I want to be clear that's not the standard for a washcloth. A washcloth mistake needs to be actually bothering the washcloth, not just bothering you on principle.
The wrong-skein story
I'll tell you about the time I didn't even notice.
I was crocheting through a stake conference — this is one of the times crochet earned its keep, because that was a long meeting — and I was working on a baby blanket. Chapel lighting is dim on purpose, and I had two skeins of yarn in my bag that were close enough in color that in that light I genuinely could not tell them apart. I grabbed the wrong one at some point, kept right on going, and worked the last twenty rows in a different shade without noticing a thing.
Got home, held it up in real light, and about laughed. Twenty rows in the wrong color, plain as day.
Did I frog it? I did not. That blanket had already been through a whole meeting's worth of work, the color change didn't make it less warm or less square, and the baby it was for was not going to file a complaint. I gave it to the family exactly like that. Nobody's ever mentioned it. That's a mistake that failed both my tests — visible, sure, but not to anybody who wasn't me holding it up under a good lamp, and it sure didn't affect the blanket doing its job. Let it go.
Practical steps for deciding, at home
- Finish the row you're on before you decide anything. Don't stop mid-row to agonize. Get to a stopping point so you can actually look at the thing flat.
- Look at it under real light, not lamp light in a dim room. Chapel lighting fooled me once. Your kitchen light at nine at night can fool you too.
- Set it down and walk away for a few minutes. Mistakes always look bigger the second you make them. Come back and it usually looks smaller.
- Ask my two questions. Would a stranger notice? Does it change whether the washcloth works? If no and no, move on.
- If it's a yes to either one, go ahead and frog back to it. You know how now. It's not fun, but it's fast, and it's a lot faster than living with a lopsided washcloth for the rest of its life.
One more thing on this, since I feel strongly about it: don't let a small, invisible mistake talk you into quitting the whole project. I've watched people abandon a perfectly good washcloth because of a stitch nobody would ever find. That's a bigger loss than the mistake was ever going to be.
Before next time
Finish up whatever's currently on your hook, take a real look at it under good light, and practice the test on purpose, even on something that's basically fine. It's a muscle. The sooner you trust your own judgment on this, the less time you'll spend frogging things that never needed it.