In a world that tells women over 60 to slow down and enjoy a retirement pastime, hobby hoarding is our way of saying, “We’re just getting started on our craft hobbies.”
Hobbies in Retirement
Retirement. At long last, the world is your oyster. You’ve been dreaming of this moment for decades—fantasizing about all the retirement pastimes you’ll finally have time to dive into: painting, gardening, needlepoint, bread-baking, birdwatching. Your Pinterest boards are ready. Your Instagram “saved” folder is packed. You are poised to become a creative powerhouse, a modern Renaissance woman.
Off you go to Amazon or the nearest craft store. If you’re anything like me, you fill your cart with brushes, paints, easels, and enough needlepoint canvases to stock a small boutique. You buy double—because what if you run out? You tuck it all neatly into drawers and closets, feeling wonderfully accomplished. And then, instead of actually doing the damn hobby, you scroll Instagram some more, fantasizing about Diane Hill’s next chinoiserie reel.
Right about now, those yellow lights should be flashing. Intervention alert!
Retirement sets a perfect trap. After decades of structure, deadlines, and responsibility, you suddenly face a vast, gaping hole of time. It feels like the moment you’ve been waiting for—to finally become the creative, crafty goddess you’ve always envisioned. Except… instead of diving in, you’re stuck in hobby paralysis. Don’t worry though, you are in good company; if your retirement hobbies are collecting dust in your closet, you’re not alone.
Let me explain.
Why Craft Hobby Hoarding Happens in Retirement
First, there’s the vision stage – The retirement hobby honeymoon. This is where it all starts: the daydreaming, the inspiration, the Pinterest rabbit holes. You decide, “I’m going to learn to draw trees,” or “I’ll needlepoint a stocking for a grandchild who doesn’t exist yet.” It’s exciting! It’s aspirational!
Next comes the contemplation stage— the shopping spree where stuff equals validation. You convince yourself that you need all the right equipment to succeed at any retirement hobby. Want to try watercolor painting? Better buy the deluxe set of paints, the fancy Arches paper, and brushes imported from Paris. Starting a tree-drawing class? I personally purchased enough sketching supplies to outfit an art school. Needlepoint? Don’t get me started. My stash of canvases and thread could supply a small army of crafters.
Perfectionism and Procrastination: A Match Made in Hobby Hell
This stage feels productive. It feels like progress. You’re buying the tools, so they’re proof you’re serious about this hobby. But then what happens? The supplies get lovingly organized into drawers, where they sit untouched. Why? Because we’re stuck in the procrastination stage, endlessly convincing ourselves, “Tomorrow will be the day.”
Here’s the thing: procrastination doesn’t feel like failure; It feels like potential. One of the 12 lessons I reflected on from last year. It’s a way of holding onto the idea that you’ll eventually master the hobby—without actually having to confront the messy, unglamorous work of learning something new – and having everything not be perfect.
Why Do We Over-Buy Craft Hobby Supplies?
Is this just how women are wired, or have we been conditioned by a lifetime of advertising? Martha Stewart has convinced us that every new hobby requires a perfectly curated setup: oval pots for chicken soup and a wooden spoon with a hole in the center for risotto. The idea of “making do” with what we already have feels practically heretical.
Meanwhile, men are no better. Let’s be honest, Husband takes a similar approach to home improvement projects. The first step? Buy new tools. Whether the project gets finished—or even started—is irrelevant. Those tools are now sacred residents of the garage. But would he dare suggest I return my unopened needlepoint canvases or watercolor brushes? Absolutely not.
This endless cycle of accumulating without executing feels like a dirty little secret of retirement. We’re downsizing, decluttering, and Marie Kondo-ing our lives, but somehow, those hobby supplies don’t count as clutter. They feel like possibilities. They represent the person we think we’re supposed to be now that we’re retired—creative, accomplished, fulfilled.
Retirement reinvention isn’t about instantly mastering hobbies—it’s about giving yourself the freedom to fail, learn, and discover what truly brings joy.
How Hobby Hoarding Holds You Back From Enjoying Your Retirement Pastime
Here’s the hard truth: the more we hoard, the harder it becomes to start. Those supplies turn into a silent to-do list, a mountain of guilt every time we open a drawer. Worse, they keep us in the fantasy phase of hobbies instead of moving into the messy, imperfect reality of doing them. The fear of failing at free time is real. After decades of structure and productivity, retirement introduces a terrifying concept: free time. What if you’re bad at it? What if you pick the wrong hobby? What if you start and it’s not fun, or worse, you’re not good at it?
Because let’s be real: hobbies are hard. Watercolor painting sounds meditative until your greens turn into mud and the water runs off the page. Needlepoint stockings sound charming until you spend hours untangling thread. And drawing trees? Let’s just say my oak looked more like an old shoe, and I was sitting next to women who could probably teach at RISD.
It’s so much easier to stay in the honeymoon phase of anticipation than to risk the reality of imperfection.
The Importance of Crafting Hobbies in Retirement
So why does any of this matter? Because hobbies are about more than keeping busy—they’re good for the soul. After decades of working, hobbies give us something we deeply need in retirement: purpose.
They fill the void left by a job, offering psychic rewards like accomplishment and satisfaction. Whether it’s finishing a painting or finally baking a loaf of bread that doesn’t double as a doorstop, hobbies give us tangible proof that we’re still capable of creating something meaningful.
But to get there, we have to actually do them.
How to Break the Hobby Hoarding Cycle in Retirement
1. Stop buying and start doing. Trust me, you’ll survive with less than 23 new skeins of Stylecraft Special yarn in Powder Pink. Pull out those untouched supplies. Start small—pick one project and use the bare minimum of tools. Creativity thrives with limitations.
2. Let yourself be bad. The goal isn’t mastery; it’s joy. Embrace the mess.
3. Find a community. Classes, groups, or even one friend can make the process more fun and hold you accountable.
4. Redefine success. It’s not about creating something gallery-worthy. Success is showing up, trying, and letting yourself play.
Craft hobbies aren’t about the stuff. They’re about the doing. Retirement isn’t about transforming into Martha Stewart overnight—it’s about reclaiming time to be messy, imperfect, and joyful.
So, let’s stop pinning, shopping, and fantasizing. Dust off that watercolor set. Pull out that needlepoint canvas. Just start. You don’t need to be good. You need to begin.
The magic isn’t in what you buy—it’s in what you do.
What’s the one hobby you’ve always dreamed of pursuing but haven’t started yet—and what’s holding you back?
This article really resonated with me! Started junk journaling and making cards – the amount of supplies I’ve collected is staggering!
Hi Diana, right? it is staggering ?. I love journaling and making cards; I have supplies for that too! Thanks for all of your comments and engagement, it means a lot as we are just getting started! While I am getting this magazine launched and busy writing, the hobbies will have to sit quietly for now!
Let’s ditch book club and start having “craft night” with friends.
Sounds good to me! You bring the wine, and I’ll supply the crafts!
I think i am guilty of hobby hoarding, for sure. LOL
In fact, as I fill my time these days with decluttering or mastering the art of Swedish Death Cleaning… I discovered craft supplies from years ago, that I almost went out to recently repurchase. Nice save.
My latest craft is doodling. I find it very fulfilling in that I can just doodle and draw in a journal and never show anyone, never have to frame it or have any real purpose.
Tell me more about the Swedish Death Cleaning? I got into journal doodling last year. Found it very meditative. I didn’t realize how much stuff I had jammed in drawers…. Until I was getting ready to write this article! The photo on the cover of the article is my own little corner of my doodling and sketching center. Then I needlepoint too, and that has it’s own chest with jammed packed drawers. The struggle is real. ?