Day 1B--When Herry Met Sadness

Backstory: In my ultimate creativity, I decided to dress as Sadness from Inside Out one year for Halloween (see kids, a long long time ago, we didn't even think of putting the word "sexy" before our costume. I'll leave "Sexy Sadness" to Lana Del Rey). As per usual, very few people knew what I was trying to be, but that's neither here nor there. I had the wig, the glasses, pants of a similar ilk. All that was missing was the right sweater (or in this case, the wrong sweater. On so many levels).

I should have realized that anybody who chooses to wear a grey, shapeless sweater when she's feeling blue (like her hair--just got that symbolism), hits probably a little too close to home. Those of us who use sweaters like mood rings will have no trouble understanding her plight--the choice of sweater can say so much about how one is feeling. I might even go so far as to say that it can impact that emotion. Again, why would I want a sweater that represented a character who was perennially upset? Perhaps there's comfort in knitwear that understands and isn't trying to tell the world anything other than, "I'm having a day. Tread lightly."

When salespeople attempted to help me, I avoided saying, "I am looking for the most depressing grey sweater that I can find." I convinced myself that I would love a good cozy grey sweater for those random days in which my mood was so good that nothing, not even a shapeless poncho-esque open knit from Loft could kill my vibes.

Sadness Couture

    




Usually, I save my opinions for after I've written the blog. Often, I wait even longer than that. But in the case of this sweater, I thought that this was a slam dunk. I'd hate it, show off a few poncho-related puns, and off it would go to a loving home. This sweater was truly a straw man (and not the kind without a brain either). The world would know that I'd changed when I ditched the very first sweater of this blog reboot.

Except that a funny thing happened on the way to the donation pile...I actually sort of liked this sweater. And not even in an "Well, if I have the right high-waisted pants" kind of way. I looked in the mirror and didn't recoil in horror. I've been lumping this sweater together with all of the other also-rans from Ann Taylor Loft unnecessarily. On the right person, it might even be, dare I say it, somewhat sporty? To compound the issue, my Mom took one look at me in this sweater and said, "Is that new?" Often, that is code for "I hope you still have the receipt," but she followed up with, "It's cute." Cute? A sweater I wore to be sadness personified? I liked this sweater a whole lot better when I hated it.

Back in the blog's heyday, I would keep my coat on at work as long as I could, so as to hide the offending sweater from sensitive eyes. And while I wasn't ready to say, "Look at me, world. I'm wearing an outdated sweater and I don't care who knows it," I felt no shame in keeping it on all day--and even around people who weren't family members. The trouble will really surface, however, when I locate its (fraternal) twin--a lovely duplicate, but in pine green. Is this really a look that I need in two colors? Time (and a good reorganizing of some storage bins) will tell. Until then, however, I have an unexpected friend in the sweater formerly known as Sadness.


Like Dewey Defeating Truman before it, this poncho-sweater hybrid had a rating even before I put it on today. I'm sure I can use that review on another sweater in the future, but for today, I'm going to have make some adjustments. 

Rating: Herry Monster

Is Herry anybody's favorite Muppet from Sesame Street? Can anyone actually name a skit in which Herry was a featured performer? Probably not, but that doesn't mean that, like this sweater, Herry doesn't get the proverbial job done. No fanfare, absolutely zero promotional merchandise, and very little excitement to surround a swing-style grey open-knit sweater or a blue Muppet that is neither Cookie nor Grover, but let us not allow that to diminish its worth. There is room in this world (if not my closet) for supporting players, be they grey sweaters or blue Muppets.


Verdict--keep. Possibly even wear again. But if anyone has a costume party to go to in the near future, let me know (or HMU, as the kids say)--I'll even throw in the blue wig and glasses.

Hot Chelle Rayon--The Comeback Commences

You know when you have a friend on social media and all of a sudden it's radio silence? Did they "unfriend/unfollow/block" you? Do you blame some new metrics on this platform (thanks, Mr. Zuckerberg/Tom from MySpace), or has this casual acquaintance simply moved on with real life (one without whimsical backgrounds and Carlton giphys)? Well, in some way, the same could be true of this blog. Did you get ghosted by 100 Days of Sweaters? The better question probably is, like Hot Chelle Rae before it, why did this blog suddenly disappear, just when things were (literally) heating up? 

The simple answer was that it was a lot to keep up with. I took this blog more seriously than I ever have any diet/health regimen/skin care routine--but it took its toll. When one is still coming up with "clever" asides about J. Crew mock necks (which are back--dare I?) in mid-July, fatigue is inevitable. Yes, I did wear 100 different sweaters for 100 days. And because I started so late in the year, I was actually wearing them in late May (I was the sole person who was excited for the "unseasonably cool" spring). I felt like a (somewhat) changed person. No longer would I buy sweaters in multiples. Keep a sweater around merely because it was the lone representative of a particular color? Perish the thought. And the overriding gestalt shift for me was that the world would never stop making sweaters. There was no need to hang onto a painfully itchy Old Navy cowlneck for fear that said knitwear represented the very last opportunity for warmth that I'd ever be granted. While I don't usually see cable knit v-necks being donned in post-Apocalyptic film scenarios, I still feel quite confident that I am amply prepared for the unlikely event of a sweater scarcity.

Looking back, I'd like to say that I have hung onto to those lessons (like a unnecessarily cropped Hollister hoodie from the aughts). Alas, such is not the case. With challenges like Stitch Fix (so you mean I can write an anonymous person and tell her that I want a package of all sweaters? Is this real life?) and the proliferation of online shopping opportunities, did any of these aha moments really stand a chance? Marie Kondo or no, I will always find room at the inn for a sweater seeking shelter from the storm. And now more than ever, I need not worry that those pants with the faint thread of chartreuse will not find a coordinating sweater with which to pair because, real talk, don't we usually just give up and throw on a black sweater anyway?

Although I'm not looking forward to getting the side-eye from the public when I sport one of The Limited's finest rayon shrugs, I realize that the time is probably right for this blog's comeback. I don't see any end to my romance with this particular genre of clothing, nor do I plan to spend this winter cozying up in one of those corduroy blazers I thought I needed back in 2006. I'm not promising that I'll have tougher standards at the sweater border this go 'round, but I also don't feel great about some of the pullovers that narrowly escaped from100 Days of Sweaters, now living in cozy conditions in a rent-controlled storage unit. And like Dancing with the Stars this season, the rules will be loosened up a bit, mainly so that I'm not wearing a Sean Spicer caliber cardigan when I'd rather give some airtime to one of my (gulp, many) Anthropologie additions from this season. 

To quote those great bards from Whitesnake, here I go again (Tawny Kitaen not included).


Aside--I never got to blog about this beaut. It was slated to be Day 101 (talk about going out with a bang). Had I actually completed this entry, I might have called this a crime against knitwear (would I have said, "You give cowls a bad name?" We'll never know).