Soft like a pillow

One can't have escaped noticing that for a few seasons now - or ever since (Etoile by) Isabel Marant became the nom du jour to drop  in the blogging circles - it has been all about The Sweater. You know, the kind of almost anonymous, almost basic knitted tops in soft shades of gray or creamy beige, that you think you can find in a dusty corner of a thrift store or  amongst your mum's nineties "treasures". But there's always something a bit off with the originals - the cut too boxy, the sleeves too short, the neckline too tight - or they've been machine-washed into a hard, cotton armor. Or, they contain an unforgivable amount of acrylic fibres.

In short, the best designer sweaters remind me of something my skilled and elegant mother would've knitted and worn in 1991. Luckily, she's still available and eager to work her magic with fine yarns and bambou needles. She gave me this pure merino sweater a couple of months ago and I have worn it almost daily. It feels as tender and warm as a mother's embrace. I don't think you could buy that even for designer prices...

As you can see from the evening sun in the photos, the spring is finally, definitely here, and I can contemplate wearing something less woolly. My mum's already at work with some linen-cotton mixes. The summer looks promising.

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