I was in my teens when my Grandma and Great Aunt knit me cardigans. They did it at the same time. Like a quiet? But not so quiet, competition between the two of them. One was v necked and buttoned. The other with a full length zip and little collar. Both in natural wool, but with different patterns.
I think they wanted me to like one better than the other. Even though I was someone who loved uniquely.
Those cardigans have weather me many years. I would wear them as pyjama tops. They were my go to when my heart was sore and my mind was troubled.
It half-amuses me that I can't remember who knit what. Such a pointless competition but not pointless acts. They remind me that I was loved.
A few years ago, one was accidentally left in the washing machine and took the unexpected next boil wash. It was officially war weary, but I continued to wear it at bedtime. The zip took a beating though, and eventually it sat on a pile waiting to be fixed.
It sat there a good long while. Til today. Today, whilst tea was cooking, I picked it up and removed the broken zip. Then I picked up the scraps bag and thought I'd experiment.
The only thing feasible was the fastenings of a school summer dress of my daughter's, that never recovered from a roll in the mud.
They don't start at the top and don't finish at the bottom, and I won't win any fashion accolades, but tonight I will be once again held in the gesture of someone who loved me.
Image description : a photograph of a knitted natural wool cardigan that has fasted at the front with a makeshift addition of the button and seams of a child's school summer dress. The material is yellow and white check and the button are white flower shapes.
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