In second grade, I owned a sweater with a duck or a goose on it. The knit sweater was magenta and teal with a friendly white bird on front. It may have had patch pockets. I wore it with jeans or leggings and a strand of faux-pearls bought for fifty cents from the Safeway vending machine.
Back in the 1980’s, everyone had a wacky sweater. Bright, color-blocked, acrylic knits were king and random animals were queen. Teachers had tops for every month: embroidered pumpkins and glittery bats in October and tiny sequined candy canes in December. As a teenager I’d sometimes find them at the thrift shop, and as an adult I learned they were categorized as ugly sweaters. Now all kinds of designs are mass-marketed during the holidays (though you’ll never get a vintage on Amazon).
After various closet clean-outs over the years, I donated a fair share of eccentric clothing, mostly items I forgot about but a few items I now miss. In the winter, nostalgia leads me to bobbled, embellished, quirky sweaters. Due to the coronavirus outbreak, I haven’t visited the thrift shop in months, but I long for a chunky handmade crew or little daisies on a cardigan. For Christmas, my husband gave me a Chicwish sweater with hearts all over it. It may be a bit much for some of my friends but I’m pleased to add it to my collection of sweet shirts, old and new.