(Photo: Zoë Kravitz as Big Little Lies’ Bonnie Carlson doing her finest cardigan acting.) In the last couple of months, a cardigan I used to wear when I was eighteen has been haunting me. It was school bus-yellow and made of a cotton and wool blend. It was cropped at the elbows and had fat buttons down the middle. It’s neckline was v-shaped but nothing too crazy, and it hugged on my waist a bit without looking too tight. My cardigan was hip and stylish and feminine. It looked like something you could pull from the wardrobe department of any of the hundreds of young adult shows airing at the time. Nowadays, however, only middle-aged white women—portrayed by Cameron Diaz or Reese Witherspoon in the movies—wear cardigans. And they wear them under
as a former cardigan lover (I think I owned at six or seven in high school and college?) I've been looking at my closet over the past few months and wondering why it is that I fell out of love with them + the observation that it's a cornerstone of adolescence and girlhood feels right to me. I've been settling into my slightly distanced relationship to femininity and childhood/adolescence and am wondering if I'll ever reach towards them again...
On Cardigans
as a former cardigan lover (I think I owned at six or seven in high school and college?) I've been looking at my closet over the past few months and wondering why it is that I fell out of love with them + the observation that it's a cornerstone of adolescence and girlhood feels right to me. I've been settling into my slightly distanced relationship to femininity and childhood/adolescence and am wondering if I'll ever reach towards them again...
Crying at the accuracy of this: "Cardigans feel uniquely nostalgic in a way no other item of clothing does. In a cardigan, you can be a girl again."