Hexagon dysphoria

There is a fair amount of hexagon goodness being flashed about the interwebs at present.

You may have seen Christina's lovely grandmother's flower garden in progress, with its gorgeous subtle hues, or Jo's bright flowers which pop against their white background, or Katy's fabulous retro-looking version.

Now I'm hexing along too, but in a different way. I'm working on a 2" hexagon charm quilt, in which every hexagon is from a completely different fabric design. In doing so I've snipped a hexie from almost every fabric in my scrap bin and stash, and from some scraps others have given me.

And what a disparate bunch of fabrics they are! Some of them are fabulous, but alas, many scraps that I have in my possession (through thrifting, gifts or just plain bad purchasing choices) are butt-ugly, wouldn't-force-your-dog-to-wear-it kind of fabrics.

Then there's the weird combination of bright, modern prints and bland country hues that are making a horrible clash in my hexagon piles. The more hexies I make, the more nervous I get. Nervous about how this quilt is going to pan out. Nervous that all the scraps are actually going to look, well, DISGUSTING together. 

I've noticed over on the hexagon charm quilt piece-along Flickr group that many participants' scrap piles are really quite beautifully matched. They may all be different fabrics, but perhaps they are all of a similar vibe (or value, or tone, or whatever the actual quilting term is I'm probably supposed to be using). I guess this happens when you have a large stash, or a consistence sense of style, or patience for fabric-matching!

 I'm beginning to get cold feet, because I can't visualise this quilt at all. Part of my desire in this challenge was to work with the randomness of my scraps and somehow create a beautiful cohesion out of chaos. I didn't want to be prescriptive or selective about the fabrics I used. I didn't want to over-think it. I was hoping for the 'quirky but funky' kind of aesthetic. Instead, I think I'm producing something which will only ever turn up at a bad taste 80s party. 

I guess there is nothing for it but to press on, because I'm not going to know how it will look until I've basted all my hexagons and started piecing them together.

Now's your chance to make me feel better. Have you ever spent a lot of time making something really butt-ugly? Tell me, was it character-developing? Worth it for the learning curve? Or just a big, fat waste of creative energy?