Is Acrylic Yarn Really That Bad?

When you're getting into crochet, there's a lot you're figuring out. How do I get started, what the heck is a chain, which hook do I buy and why are there so many sizes? And one of the biggest and most overwhelming parts is walking through the yarn aisle and having no idea what yarn you should buy.

Then, somewhere between your first chain and your first sweater, you overhear someone or read a post online declaring acrylic evil. And suddenly you're not just confused about what to buy, you're wondering if you're somehow a bad person for having bought it!

Yarn itself is a complete science and a fun rabbit hole to dive down once you get more familiar with the basics. So let's take this time to walk through an explanation of acrylic, the discussion happening on the internet, and then I'll share some ways to think about what kind of yarn you should buy.

What's the big deal?

Acrylic yarn is a synthetic fiber made from petroleum-based chemicals (ie it's plastic). Natural fibers, on the other hand, are made from plants (such as cotton) or animal fur (such as wool). Acrylic yarn has a lot going for it as a crocheter. It's generally more affordable than natural yarns, it's often machine washable, it's good for people with wool allergies or skin sensitivities, and there are so many ways companies have adapted their yarns to mimic other fibers, or to make them softer than you can believe!

On the other hand, it is made of plastic, and there's a legitimate environmental concern both for creating more plastic and because studies have shown it releases significantly higher amounts of microplastics when washed compared to other blends and even polyester.

So that's the case on both sides. Here's how I'd actually think through it.

Aligning with your values

The first thing I want to say is that "natural fiber good, synthetic fiber bad" is a much tidier story than the one that's actually true.

Yes, acrylic sheds microplastics. But wool comes with methane and land use, and the scouring process uses a lot of water. Conventional cotton is thirsty and pesticide-heavy. And superwash wool is usually treated with a polymer resin. Which means your beautiful hand-dyed superwash merino is also shedding plastic in the wash.

I don't say this to let acrylic off the hook. I say it because there's no fiber you can buy your way into feeling perfect about, and the sooner you let go of finding one, the sooner you can make a choice you actually feel good about, and the sooner you can get onto growing your skill and spending time on your hobby.

Here are a few other values around the fiber arts that may be important to you, and hopefully help steer you into a direction that allows you to get back to your hobby.

Longevity. The most sustainable yarn is the one that becomes something you actually use.

A sweater you wear for fifteen years is better than a natural fiber one you make, dislike the drape of, and shove in the back of the closet.

Where your money goes. There are plenty of amazing small businesses, indie dyers, small mills, your local yarn shop, a shepherd two counties over, which are all working hard to have minimal impact on animals and the environment. You might not lose sleep over microplastics but care a lot about who your forty dollars supports, so consider researching more in the smaller fiber arts ecosystems.

Animal welfare. This is another legitimate area to consider. If it is important to you to cut out animal products altogether, your yarn options are plant fibers or synthetic.

Note that, if you still want to use wool but care where it comes from, that's where certification helps. There are organizations working to ensure sheep and the land they are on are managed responsibly. When shopping for yarn, search for the Responsible Wool Standard certification stamp, or research other organizations and their practices.

Access. Gatekeeping has a cost. Acrylic is a big part of what makes this craft available to people who can't drop two hundred dollars on a project. It's also often the right call for charity work when donating NICU hats or shelter blankets, where the items need to be washable, hypoallergenic, and affordable enough to make a lot of them. If one of your values is "more people should get to make things with their hands," acrylic can serve that value.

And finally: keep the scale in mind. Your yarn stash is not the reason the ocean has plastic in it. Think about it, sure. Don't carry it around like a personal failing.

What is feasible for you

The money is real, so let's use real numbers. An adult sweater runs roughly 1,000 to 1,500 yards. In acrylic, that's twenty or thirty dollars. In comparable wool, you're starting around eighty and climbing quickly from there. A throw blanket will take ten-plus skeins, and the gap becomes hundreds of dollars. For a lot of people, that's the difference between making the thing and not making it.

Think about who's receiving it. "Handwash-only" is a request you're making of another person when you gift a wool item. When the beautiful thing you made is a gift for a new parent, a college kid, a friend who has never hand-washed a single item of clothing in his life, sometimes the most thoughtful choice is the one that survives a washing machine.

Think about what the object has to do. This is where acrylic isn't a compromise at all, it's the right tool. Amigurumi wants stitch definition and structure and no drape, and acrylic delivers exactly that. Market bags and kids' blankets take a beating. On the flip side (and this is a genuine safety note): acrylic melts. Potholders and trivets should be cotton, always, no exceptions.

Your skin gets a vote. A real wool allergy or lanolin sensitivity isn't a preference to be talked out of by someone on the internet.

What can you actually get? Not everyone has a local yarn shop, or a shipping budget, or a car. Sometimes the choice isn't acrylic versus wool. It's acrylic versus nothing.

Give yourself room to mess up. Learning a new construction, swatching, a first sweater you're going to frog four times before it works. Cheap yarn buys you permission to fail, and that is a completely legitimate use of it.

And it's worth remembering the conversation isn't all-or-nothing. Blends exist. So do destash sales, thrifted yarn, and unraveling a thrift store sweater for the fiber.

My personal journey

Whenever I get into a new hobby or interest, I get really snobby. Take coffee for example. When I first started drinking coffee in high school, I hated it (is that true for most of us?) and I would drown my espresso in milk and sugar until the coffee flavor was non-existent. Then I worked in coffee and developed an appreciation for the actual flavor profiles of a well-roasted and quality-brewed coffee. After that I would only drink single origin light roasts from the most upscale roasters and looked down on everything else. Over time, I came to realize there's room for all the in-betweens. On a chilly fall day, a dark cup of thick diner coffee can be just what I need. But on a summer afternoon, maybe a single origin cold brew that really brings out bright flavors is the way to go.

This is how I was about yarn, too. I spent many years relying on acrylic because it's versatile and it's what I could afford. Eventually I got curious about other fibers and experimented with various types, how they work up and block and drape when worn. For a short time, I let the pendulum swing too far, suddenly anti-acrylic, "get that plastic away from me!" Nowadays I'm happy to say I've settled into a middle ground. There are so many fun fiber options to experiment with and some natural fibers I love working with, but there are cases where I'm making a specific kind of project for a friend and it just makes more sense to use something machine washable, and often when I make blankets and I can't justify spending hundreds of dollars on natural yarn for a project that takes ten skeins.

So, is it bad?

In the end, there is nothing wrong with acrylic in the actual process of crocheting. If, once you've learned more about it and considered your values and what is truly feasible for you, you decide to use it or you decide to banish it from your stash forever, you'll have made the choice on purpose on your own terms. That's the whole thing. Not the correct yarn, but a reason.

And the next time you're in the yarn aisle standing next to someone loading up their cart with big-box acrylic, you'll know you have no idea what they're making, who it's for, or what's feasible in their life. The hobby is better with them in it.