Some people have a collection of cats, I have a collection of cardigans. There I said it. I love a good cardigan. From 1950’s styles to grandpa styles, from cropped styles to grandma styles, to oversized styles, to fitted styles, to a modern-day style cardigan you could say I have one (too many) for every season. Some vintage, some new. Either, or, there’s a warm sensation about throwing one over a tank and a pair of jeans, a v-neck and a skirt, a camisole and a pair of cut offs and saying to yourself (quietly) “I feel like a book-worm and I love it”. As a kid I would rummage through my parents closet and pull out my dad’s oversized grey knitted one with black buttons. No matter how big and worn it was I would walk around the house and pair it with my mom’s oversized heels. Not much has changed, except for the fact that I have now grown into those heels. In high school I would sport our uniform cardigan of black, white and green. But soon replace it with a cool knitted one that I thought suited my kilt more. Confidently prancing the hallways in MY dress code I felt cool that I, the stealth being that I am got away with personalizing my own look at a Catholic high school where we only had one “Out Of Uniform” a month. Not me. Until I’d hear a loud yell down the hallway from my principal, “Miss Sicoli, that’s not uniformed cardigan!”. “Yeah it – no it’s not. You’re right sir, I forgot it at home”. He would continue shaking his head. I’d continue pulling excuses out of my arse shuffling down the hallway and quickly taking it off. Good thing there was another corner to turn cause no one was gonna tell me what to do! I’d put it back on as soon as I’d be out of his sight. “Sucka”. Yes, I was a rebel. A rebel with a cardigan. You can never really have too many. Even if you steal them from your father’s closet. – CS xx