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Excavating creativity and joy out of Joann’s remains

The importance of arts, crafts, and imagination as the world collapses.

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A photo shows an aisle at a closing Joann Fabrics store with an empty expanse of product racks. Several white rectangular signs at the top of the shelves on the right-hand side read "VALUE YARN" in black lettering.
Photo by Christina Lieffring.

The importance of arts, crafts, and imagination as the world collapses.

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I’m not someone who gets sentimental about big box stores. Too much has happened. Too many have closed, funded reactionary politics (Hobby Lobby is still dead to me), or abandoned any semblance of values or decency. Latest example: do you know how much time and money I, an elder Millennial, have spent at Target? Now I can’t remember the last time I stepped foot in one.

So I did not get sentimental when I heard Joann Fabrics and Crafts was finally closing. I applied for a part-time job at a Joann’s in Kansas City over a decade ago. During my interview the manager went on an unprompted rant about how he had to cut everyone’s hours so they wouldn’t qualify for health insurance. He said his employees were hurting, and it was all Obama’s fault. I didn’t take the job. 

With Joann’s, the writing has been on the wall for months, years even. I didn’t hold out hope that some finance bro was going to see the value of saving, much less restoring, an arts and crafts chain, because they’re the ones who killed it in the first place. Private equity strikes again. 

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I’ve also been trying to spend my money locally wherever possible. We’re lucky that the Madison area has a good number of independent craft stores that sell items made locally or by small producers you can’t find at box stores. They also work to foster community among crafters, with workshops and craft rooms. (Pour one out for the dearly departed Fiddlesticks Knits, a queer, inclusive fiber arts shop). I asked the Dane County Neighbors Helping Neighbors group and received nearly 20 recommendations that I’ll list at the bottom of this piece.

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Instead of getting sentimental, I treated Joann’s closing announcement as an opportunity to stock up. I crochet stuffies, so I went straight to the East Side location’s yarn section to find that it was practically empty. The stacked rows and aisles of empty white display baskets evoked the ribcage of a carcass picked clean. I was the last crustacean to the whale fall.

Not all was lost. Out of the carcass of Joann’s website, I excavated a sewing machine and other sewing accessories. I learned the basics of sewing as a kid, and have been re-learning under the tutelage of a friend who’s an accomplished quilter. A sewing machine to work on projects at home was a distant goal for a day when I had more money saved, but I found one my friend recommended as a solid beginner machine at a good price.

With a set goal in mind, I was in and out without much reflection except that it all felt vaguely apocalyptic. Then I went to the West Side location with my quilter friend on a Sunday afternoon. We’ve been wasting time at craft stores together since we became friends in high school, when I’d roam the aisles reading “crochet” out loud as “crotch-et” (“Crotch-et-ing for fun!” “Anyone can crotch-et!”).  As we lingered and wandered through the sections, I finally took in the loss. 

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Every craft store has its specialties. One of Joann’s is that it regularly carries some of the most unhinged Halloween decorations. Last fall, Joann’s carried a (not functional) sewing machine designed to look like it was made out of bones. The base was an anatomically impossible foot, then some limb bones that went up and over to a skull hanging out over the needle. When you pushed a button, the skull’s red eyes lit up and its jaw moved, all while a voice cackled bad puns about sewing you to death or whatever, mixed with sewing machine sound effects. It’s a fever dream of a Halloween decoration, and when one went on clearance, my friend couldn’t resist.

Joann’s also specialized in fabric. For making bags and zippered pouches, I buy fabric from Blue Bar Quilts in Middleton. For my purposes, Blue Bar has fabric with higher quality designs and material than Joann’s selection. But Joann’s selection is generally less expensive and serves a wider range of needs, from character fabrics (i.e. Spiderman, Harry Potter, etc.), to large bolts of fabric for outdoor use, home decoration, and my greatest temptation: costume fabric. What if, five years from now, I regret not stocking up on mermaid fabric, or a pretty floral brocade? What if I need a crow costume for a circus show

Big box stores are filled with a little bit of everything—materials you don’t need for hobbies you don’t have, for now. But someday, maybe you will. I love looking through the decorative card stock aisle, just admiring the colors and patterns. Maybe someday I’ll make cards, or miniature rooms where I could use the card stock for wallpaper or flooring. Or maybe I’ll finally take the plunge and learn embroidery, felting, or some other art and craft that I don’t know of yet. Two decades ago, I had a roommate who crocheted, and it looked like witchcraft to me. Now I do it almost every day during the winter. 

I hope the death of Joann’s will give local stores the opportunity to grow, thrive, and expand. Everyone should have access to places where they can learn skills, build community, and dream. Stepping into any arts and crafts store is an act of expansion beyond the everyday, beyond survival, that asks us what we want to put out into the world. Surrounded by raw materials, it’s up to you to imagine what they could be, whether it’s whimsical, beautiful, bizarre, cute, ironic, sincere, or esoteric.

No matter how corporate, the death of an arts and crafts store feels like a reiteration that capitalism doesn’t care about our creativity, art, joy, or expression. One of my favorite writers, Sarah Kendzior, recently wrote about channeling her rage into arts and crafts

“I was going to make a noose, but instead I made a basket,” Kendzior writes. “The basket is too small to hold anything but my nightmares. But I know it’s working, because I used up all the rope for my noose.”

The people who are dismantling our government right now only know how to acquire money through theft and lies. They could only dream of possessing the artistry, ingenuity, and community of those who know the joy of making something out of scraps and ideas with their own hands.

Dane County independent craft stores:

Artist and Craftsman Supply, 203 W. Gorham St., Madison

Artsy Fartsy, 1717 Monroe St., Madison

Blue Bar Quilts, 6333 University Ave., Middleton

Candle Cocoon (soap and candle-making supplies), 4903 Commerce St., McFarland

The Electric Needle, 4821 W. Beltway, Madison

Eli’s Art Supplies, 2346 E. Washington Ave., Madison

Hello Art Hatchery, 134 E. Main St., Stoughton

JJ Stitches (quilt shop), 221 E. Main St., Sun Prairie 

Knitcircus Yarns, online only but based in Madison, knitcircus.com

Lynn’s of Madison, 5928 Odana Rd, Madison

Madison Woodworkers Supply, 1125 Jonathon Dr., Madison

Sewhungryhippie, 801 N. Page St., Stoughton 

The Sow’s Ear cafe and yarn shop, 125 S. Main St., Verona

Spry Whimsy Fibers, 168 W. Main St., Stoughton

Sugar River Yarns (opening soon in Mount Horeb) 

Sunset Yarn, 3742 Speedway Rd, Madison

Textile Arts Center of Madison, 2436 Pennsylvania Ave., Madison

Tropic Jewel, 449 State St., Madison

Woodcraft of Madison, 6594 Monona Dr., Monona

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Author
A photo shows the author seated at a table at a sidewalk cafe, facing the camera.

Christina Lieffring is Tone Madison’s Managing Editor, a free-wheelin’ freelancer, and lifelong Midwesterner.