5 Reasons Women My Age Are Giving Up On Plain Cardigans
5 Reasons Women My Age Are Giving Up On Plain Cardigans
I own the least colourful wardrobe in Leeds and the most complimented cardigan in it. Here is how that happened.
By Patricia Holloway, a customer in Leeds · 4 min read
- A garden climbs from the hem while the shoulders stay calmly charcoal
- Printed soft over the knit, so the roses hold detail no needle could manage
- Skims and drapes without clinging, through the longest of long meetings
- Worn open it is one cardigan, buttoned it is another
- And the strange one: my plain wardrobe finally got a job
The full five, with my photographs, below. The cardigan is the Kivara, from Manchester Boutique.
First, how I got here. My wardrobe is navy, white, grey and sense, and I have defended it for decades. Then my sister, who has never once dressed sensibly, wore a cardigan to Sunday lunch with an entire flower bed growing up it from the hem, cream roses on charcoal, and I spent the meal being annoyed at how much I wanted one. I ordered mine that evening, sensibly, in the same colourway, which is to say exactly the same one. When I realised I could name five reasons it has beaten every plain cardigan I own, I wrote them down, and the boutique asked to put my list up for other women to read.
Mine, over plain white and jeans. The garden does the work. The charcoal keeps it respectable.
The garden climbs, it does not wallpaper
This is what makes it wearable for a sensible woman. The flowers are thick at the hem, cream roses and pink cosmos and little yellow buds in soft faded colours, and they thin out as they climb, until the shoulders are almost plain marled charcoal. It reads like a painting hung on a dark wall, not a print gone mad, and the dark keeps the whole affair grown up.
The day it came. Dense at the hem, quiet at the shoulders. Composition, my sister calls it.
Printed soft over the knit, and that is the point
Look closely and the roses have proper painterly shading, real depth in the petals, tiny buds you can make out individually, all sitting soft over the cosy knit underneath. No knitting needle could hold that detail, and the knit still does the warm part. You get the painting and the cardigan at once, and nobody had to choose.
The roses up close. Shading like a watercolour, worn like a cardigan.
It skims, it never clings
The one nobody believes until they have sat through a long parish meeting in it. The cut is relaxed and boxy in the way that drapes rather than clings, easy through the shoulders, straight at the hem, and it stays comfortable from the opening apologies to any other business. I have worn it sitting, gardening, driving and dozing, and it has not once needed adjusting, which is more than I can say for the meeting.
End of a long day, worn since breakfast. No complaints filed by any part of me.
Open and closed are two different cardigans
The one my husband calls cheating. Worn open over white, the flowers frame the plain top like a jacket doing you a favour. Buttoned up, with its little wood-look buttons, it becomes a jumper with a garden on it, and the whole outfit is done in one decision. Same cardigan, two entirely different days, and I alternate depending on how much conversation I want to invite.
The buttons in question. One row of them, two cardigans. Cheating, apparently.
My plain wardrobe finally got a job
The strange one. Every plain thing I own has been promoted. The white tops, the navy trousers, the grey everything, they all used to be an outfit-in-waiting, and now they are the supporting cast the garden needed. I have stopped wandering shops looking for interesting pieces, because the interest is handled, and the sensible things underneath have never looked more deliberate. Decades of navy, white and grey, vindicated by one cardigan.
The cardigan and its supporting cast. Everyone has a role now.
I have already been back to look at the rest of the collection twice, with my sensible head on, and my sensible head has been outvoted both times. The plain cardigans have not left the drawer since this one arrived, and between us, I do not think they are coming out. I am 68, I dress in navy, white, grey and one garden, and I recommend the arrangement to anyone.
— Patricia Holloway, Leeds
Two practical things before you go. There is a sale on at the moment, and the first autumn stock is already going, so the size you want is not guaranteed to wait for you. And the charcoal garden is one of fourteen prints in the collection, there are lighter grounds and brighter gardens, so there will be one that is properly you.
KIVARA | Vintage Floral Cardigan
Every size, 8/10 to 20/22 · Free UK delivery
See The Autumn Print Cardigan CollectionThere is a sale on. The first autumn stock is already going.
Patricia Holloway is 68 and lives in Leeds. She is a customer, not a writer, and she was not paid for this list.
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