Five Weaving Myths & Why They’re Not True

When I tell people I’m a weaver, they often respond first with curiosity, followed by hesitation.

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to try that, but it looks so hard.”

“I’d need a giant loom, right?”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Behind these reactions are assumptions that keep a lot of people from ever picking up a shuttle.

And I get it. Many fiber arts can seem mysterious or intimidating from the outside. But weaving is far more accessible, flexible, and beginner-friendly than people realize.

Today, I want to share five common myths I’ve heard repeatedly, and explain why they’re simply not true.

Myth #1: “Weaving is too complicated to learn.”

Weaving can certainly look complex: threads running every which way, charts and drafts, looms with beams and levers and pedals. But underneath all that, the core principles are surprisingly approachable.

Like any skill, weaving is best learned one step at a time. You don’t need to understand all the terminology or theory to start. You can begin with simple projects and build confidence as you go. In fact, structure is one of weaving’s greatest strengths because it gives you a solid framework to play within.

Think of weaving like cooking or learning an instrument: you start with the basics like recipes or weaving patterns, and layer on complexity as your comfort grows.

Myth #2: “You need a big, expensive loom to get started.”

This one’s especially persistent, and especially untrue.

My first weaving wasn’t done on a loom at all. Like many kids, I started with construction paper strips. You might have done the same in school, making those checkerboard mats in art class.

Image by Kristi Sneddon

Following my first woven mat, I dabbled in woven paper baskets, which I traded for TV time with our downstairs neighbor.

Later in life, when I was a broke, returning student and single mom, I wanted to try weaving again. I didn’t have a budget for supplies, so I made my first “real” loom myself. I used sticks from my yard and donated yarn to build a backstrap loom. I followed a few online tutorials, figured out how to anchor it to a doorknob, and just started.

That experience taught me two important things: first, that weaving is deeply accessible. And second, that resourcefulness matters more than equipment.

There are wonderful, affordable tools out there—from small frame looms to rigid heddle looms you can fit on a table. Some of my students start with cardboard and yarn. The idea that you need a massive floor loom to be a “real” weaver is simply false; crafts like basket weaving require no loom at all.

Myth #3: “It takes forever to finish anything.”

It’s true that some weaving projects take time. Dressing a loom, weaving yardage, or creating complex designs can be meditative, slow work.

But not everything has to be a marathon.

There are plenty of satisfying, quick wins in weaving: small wall hangings, mug rugs, bookmarks, belts, and coasters, to name a few. These can often be completed in a single sitting or afternoon. And these are not “less than” projects—they’re the building blocks of skill, confidence and joy.

One of the gifts of weaving is that it invites you to slow down, which I wrote about in this post. In a culture that often prioritizes speed and efficiency, weaving teaches presence, patience, and respect for process. It becomes less about how fast you finish, and more about what you gain by staying with it.

Myth #4: “I’m not creative enough.”

This one breaks my heart a little, in part because I hear it all the time in relation to many things, not just fiber arts.

I blame capitalism. I welcome you to do the same.

Many of us get the messaging that creativity is a fixed trait and only has value if it’s producing either money or fame. I wrote about that here. There’s a notion that you either have it or you don’t. That creativity belongs to blessed few who are touched by some mysterious muse or fountain of inspiration. That it’s a talent belonging to “artistic” people, not to the rest of us.

It’s just not true. Creativity isn’t a talent; it’s a practice, and it grows with use. Creativity belongs to the curious and the playful, and to the slow, steady practicers. It belongs to anyone willing to forge ahead without waiting for inspiration. If you want a muse or two, you’ll need to make them a comfortable, welcoming home.

In weaving, it’s guided by structure, which can be incredibly freeing. The loom gives you boundaries: a width, a tension, a pattern. Inside those constraints, you get to experiment with color, texture, and form.

All it takes is a willingness to try and a safe environment where mistakes are part of the learning. If you can pick out colors you love or follow a rhythm with your hands, you’re already halfway there.

Myth #5: “It’s not for people like me.”

This myth is the quietest, and maybe the most damaging. It’s the belief that fiber arts are for a certain type of person: older women, art-school graduates, people with lots of free time or disposable income.

But fiber arts have always belonged to everyone.

They’ve existed in every culture, practiced by people of all genders, ages, and backgrounds. From Navajo rug weaving to Andean backstrap looms, from Japanese sakiori to African strip weaving, the craft is as diverse as humanity itself.

If you’ve ever woven paper in grade school, you’ve already participated in a lineage that goes back thousands of years. And if you’ve ever wanted to try weaving but thought it wasn’t “for you”, I want to gently challenge that belief.

I’ve worked with teenagers, retirees, working parents, and people who’ve never considered themselves “makers.” I’ve seen how quickly that shift can happen when someone realizes: Oh. This is for me, too.

Because it is.

A Final Thought

The biggest obstacle most people face when it comes to weaving isn’t cost, time, or skill, but the myths they’ve been told that they repeated. That it’s too complicated. Too expensive. Too slow. That they’re not the creative type. That it’s for other people, not them.

But those stories don’t just show up around weaving, do they?

They show up anytime we want to try something new, like when we consider learning a new skill, making art, starting a project, or maybe going back to school. Anytime we want to change direction, imposter syndrome—that voice of hesitation and fear—can set in.

Those are just myths.

The truth? Weaving is beautifully learnable. It’s far more accessible than you might think. And if any part of you feels pulled toward it, I hope you’ll listen.