We’re in spring and headed to summer, yes, but still, in times of quarantine we need our creature comforts. At least, I do. On those chilly days at home, after the hours of staring at the computer and talking to no one but the dog have addled the brain, the day feels stale, and you’ve frankly forgotten the reason why you even got out of bed that morning (don’t we all have those days?), sometimes the simplest of things brings us back to center. A scented candle, a hot shower, a walk around the block, or the feel of a cozy sweater.
There’s nothing like it, is there? Something about a knit feels so intimate, like you’re not really far from whoever made it, even if in reality, it was a machine and not granny-so-and-so-who-also-makes-great-peach-cobbler. The fabric has an honesty about it, strong and soft and grounding.
It’s a whole mood
I was thinking about this the other day when I threw on my Big Bird sweater. It was so simple and cheerful, one of those things that sets the mood for your day. And it may sound juvenile, but in times of psychological overwhelm and (arguably) sensory deprivation, the feel of soft, loose knit provides a sort of tactile meditation.
The cozy sweater is really a mood more than anything else, it’s that feeling of security and versatility. After all, I wore it to run errands, then came home and ripped of my pants: voila, a lounge outfit (Although I did wear a pair of leggings to watch The Great British Bake-Off with Papa Mendes, out of respect for my elders).
It also imparts a sort of hardy forgiveness, that no matter what you did or didn’t do today, it was enough. Could it be that I’m projecting? Absolutely. But hey, that’s fashion.
love,
Stig.
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