(It is officially sweater weather in Kelowna, as long as it isn't the afternoon.)
I'd simply like to disappear into a pile of lovely fabrics: thick and soft, patterned or solid. Home-y.
Turtlenecks are my favourite, but any sweater will do. In fact, the thought of buying a new sweater or two has the same appeal as indulging in chocolate or ice-cream.
Nearly as exciting as buying a new book.
In a way, sweaters tell stories. At least mine do. My formal sweaters boost my confidence and hide my nervousness. But don't get it twisted, my sweaters must fit well. I already look fantastic. I'm wearing the sweater, the sweater isn't wearing me. My casual sweaters comfort me and inspire me to curl up with a book, learn something new, or simply allow me to be me. And my long-time sweaters are a testament to me growing into myself. Long live the sweater I purchased in grade 10, navy blue and white, it will forever be one of my favourites. I wore it through hardships and successes and still it remains in perfect condition. There's a double meaning there, but I'm just glad it's stuck around through everything. It has lasted, and so will I.
And allll of my sweaters have to be comfortable. That is a must.
I say no to scratchy sweaters. Sweaters that wear me. Sweaters that'll fall apart.
My sweaters have to endure life alongside me and remain in one piece.
It's kind of poetic.
People who enjoy good sweaters are poetic.
Now that's half the battle. I just have to pair them with proper pants (aka slacks. I love my slacks.) and then I'm ready to go.
People who enjoy good sweaters and good pants are my kind of people.
(Okay, now I'm going to go look at cute Pinterest boards of sweaters and cozy outfits...)
P.S. I will be finding and taking the sweaters Geordi La Forge and Wesley Crusher wear in Star Trek: The Next Generation.
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