Not all brown cardies are created equal

When it comes to clothes I am definitely not one of those I-don’t-give-a-shit kind of people. I very much do. I love clothes. We have a walk-in wardrobe at home and I use considerably more than my half of it. I also use several drawers in Shaun’s scotch chest and all the furniture in the spare room. I have occasional purges, but no way near as many as I should.

I very rarely make purchasing mistakes. If on occasion I do buy something and it’s all wrong, I throw out without a second thought (in one of those charity bins of course). I don’t believe in persevering with something that makes you look stupid, unless it’s a chicken suit.

So I had this brown cardy that I got about 10 years ago. While a brown cardy may not sound like something the average person should wear, I loved it. I believe in creating your own style. Let’s face it, some fashions are just wrong, so why the hell would you wear them? Fashion should be about individuality, and nothing screams Sarah Hawk Taylor more than a brown cardy. Anyway, I wore that brown cardy to death. Literally. I had to bin it when I wore through it’s elbows. I considered getting mum to patch it, but even I draw lines on occasion.

There are outfits that required that brown cardy to make them whole. Suddenly, there was a whole sector of my wardrobe that couldn’t be worn. Something had to be done. Strangely, there isn’t a huge market for brown cardies, so I couldn’t find one anywhere. Then one day I struck gold whilst doing my usual Friday afternoon online-shopping-at-work session. Abercrombie and Fitch had a cheeky little cable knit number in their winter collection. Perfect. I have a lot of A&F stuff and they had never let me down before. Of course there’s a first time for everything.  The cardy is all wrong. I was forced back to the drawing board.

Much to my relief I found a replacement. It was perfect! It was even better than the original specimen. I wore it once and fell in love, so you can understand my misery when I went to find it this morning and it was nowhere to be seen. I had been wondering what the spare cardy hanger was doing for the last couple of weeks. I scoured my wardrobe 4 times. I checked every drawer. I even looked in the suitcases in the attic. Gone. Annoyingly I was already dressed and when you’re the size of a house, getting changed is quite an undertaking.

So I’m wearing the cable knit job and I’m not happy about it.

Damn you cardy. If you’re reading this, please come home. I miss you.


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