I may have spent my childhood growing up in Florida, but I always had an attraction to too all things knitwear. I remember wishing the thermometer would dip below sixty so I could find good reason for wearing sweaters so carefully selected by my doting grandma (Mee Maw), who lived up north and must’ve thought that even her granddaughter in the Sunshine State might catch cold without the proper attire. I recall one sweater specifically. It was a kelly green number embellished with some type of gold coin like discs that I wore as a tunic over a pair of black and white houndstooth stirrup (yes, stirrup) leggings. See, even as an adolescent I knew the difference between leggings and pants.
As an adult, I had the privilege of taking my sweater obsession even further when I worked in knitwear product development for Henri Bendel’s famously fabulous cashmere. I now know more about weaves, wefts, and fibers than I’d like to admit. So, while there is a small window where we, northerners, will enjoy all that is fall before we trade in our cardigans for sleeping bag coats, I can’t deny my delight in draping myself in cozy cashmere and lofty knits.