A letter from a reader

At 67, I had worn a scarf to every evening out for twelve years, and not once because I was cold

The most I usually write is the answers on our quiz sheet on a Thursday night, and even then Geoff checks my spelling. I am not a writer, and it has never been my place to tell another woman what she ought to wear.

But three different women asked me about my jumper at the pub quiz last Thursday, and I have now explained it enough times that it seemed easier to write it down properly.

It started in September. My sister June was staying, and the two of us were going out for supper. I came down the stairs, stopped at the hall mirror and did what I always do. Scarf round twice, ends tucked in, pulled up a little at the front. June was stood by the door with her car keys, watching the whole performance.

Maggie, it is not even cold out. Who are you hiding from?

I did not have an answer for her. When I got home I counted. Eleven scarves in the drawer, and not one of them bought because I was cold. Somewhere in my mid fifties I had decided that my neck was the first thing to go, and from then on it went out under a scarf. Every lunch, every birthday, every Thursday at the quiz.

I did not set out to do that, and I want to be clear about it. Nobody decides to spend twelve years wound up in a scarf. It happens one chilly evening at a time, until your sister asks you a question in your own hallway and you cannot answer it.

How it happens

I used to love a bare neck. When Geoff and I were courting I had a little black top with a square neckline, and I wore it to every dance going with a string of my mother’s pearls.

What changed was not me. It was what was on the rails.

Go and look at the jumpers for women our age. On one side there are round necks and V-necks that leave everything on show. On the other there are great thick polo necks that fold over twice and make you feel as though you are slowly being swallowed by your own clothes.

So you do what I did. You buy the round neck, and you add a scarf. And then the scarf becomes part of you, and nobody ever remarks on a scarf, which I suppose was rather the point.

What I had wrong

Here is the bit I got most wrong, and I think a lot of us have.

I thought the problem was my neck. I thought it was something to be managed, like a draught under a door.

It turns out it was never my neck. It was the neckline.

A neat little high neck that stands up on its own, not folded, not tight, not a polo neck, simply sitting there. It covers exactly what I had been covering, and it does it without anything to wind, tuck or check in every mirror I pass. It frames your face instead of hiding it.

Covered or elegant. I had been choosing between the two for twelve years, and I had no idea there was a jumper that did both. It took me until 67 to find it.

The jumper is called the Heidi

It is from Manchester Boutique, a small British boutique that has been quietly dressing women our age for a few years now.

It is called the Heidi. A plain, soft jumper in a clean white, with that little high neck, dropped shoulders, a straight cut and deep ribbed cuffs. Nothing on it that does not need to be there. They do it in ten colours as well, which I will come back to.

It has a smooth, soft finish and it is properly cosy, the sort of warm that lasts all day rather than just until you get to the car. The cut is straight and simple, so it skims rather than clings, and it looks smart rather than bundled up. And it keeps its shape. I have had it in the wash four times now and it has come out the same jumper every time, which with a white one is the whole battle.

That is really all there is to it. It is not complicated. It is just a jumper that somebody thought about.

What happened at the quiz

Our village pub does a quiz every Thursday, and our team has had the same table by the fire for nine years. Geoff does sport and history, I do anything with flowers or the royal family in it, and we have never once finished higher than third.

I wore the white Heidi for the first time, with my navy trousers and no scarf. Three women asked me about it before the picture round. One of them was Marjorie, who has kept our score sheet for nine years and has never said a word to me that was not about the scores.

She looked up from her pencil and said I looked like I was the one reading out the questions. From Marjorie, that is full marks.

What I noticed more than the asking, though, was my hands. For years I have spent the first round unwinding a scarf, the second round looking for it under the table, and the rest of the evening tugging at it. Last Thursday my hands were round my glass or holding the pencil, all night long.

The next morning I put it straight back on to walk the dog across the field, and felt completely myself in it. A jumper for the pub on a Thursday night and for a cold field on a Friday morning. I do not think I have ever owned one of those before.

Three things I have learned since

One. The neck looks after itself. It stands up neatly on its own, so there is nothing to fold or arrange. You put it on, you look in the mirror once, and you go.

Two. The sizing is simple. It comes in a UK 8, 10, a 12 to 14 and a 16. I am usually a 14 and the 12 to 14 was right, with a little room to spare.

Three. White is easier than you think. I had always thought of a white jumper as something for younger women with no gravy in their lives. It goes with navy, with grey, with my old jeans, and because it keeps its shape in the wash I have stopped saving it for best.

About the price

I want to be straightforward about this, because it was the thing that made me suspicious.

The Heidi is £29.95. It was £60.00.

My first thought, honestly, was that there had to be a catch, because I have paid more than that for a scarf.

There is no catch that I have found. They are a small boutique selling directly, so there is no department store taking a cut in the middle, and they have a sale on at the moment while the first of the autumn stock comes in.

I did what I imagine you are doing now and went and read the reviews before I ordered. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not the suspiciously perfect five you see on some websites, which if I am honest made me trust it rather more. One woman from Tetford had written, “I have not worn a scarf with it once. My daughter asked what had happened, and I said nothing had, I had just stopped hiding.”

Then I ordered the light grey as well, and sent it to June with a note that said, nobody is hiding now.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you and I were sat at the table by the fire with the picture round in front of us, this is what I would say.

If you reach for a scarf every time you leave the house, and you know perfectly well it is not because you are cold, then it is worth ten minutes of your evening to go and look.

Not because a jumper will change your life. It will not. But there is something in catching sight of yourself in the pub mirror and not wanting to tuck anything in that I had quietly given up on, and I would rather you did not give up on it too.

Two practical things. The sale is on at the moment, and the middle sizes are the ones that go first, which I found out because the 12 to 14 in light grey had gone by the time I went back for June’s and I had to wait for it. And the first of the autumn stock is already going, so I would not leave it until the weather turns.

I go to the quiz with my neck out now. We still come fourth.

Maggie