A note from Leya
At 67, I was tired of choosing between jumpers that cling and jumpers that swallow me whole
I don't usually write these, and I nearly didn't. But I've found myself saying the same thing to so many women lately that it seemed easier to write it down properly.
Earlier this month I spent a whole afternoon in a department store changing room, under that terrible lighting, trying on jumpers for the winter. The fitted ones clung to every part of me I'd rather they didn't. The relaxed ones hung off me as though I'd borrowed them from a much larger man. I came out with nothing, and went home and put the kettle on in a mood.
It's the same every year. The shops give us two sorts of jumper. There are the neat, fitted ones, which are lovely if you're built like a coat hanger. And there are the loose, comfortable ones, which make you look as though you've given up. Cling or swamp. At our age, most of us settle for swamp and tell ourselves nobody's looking.
I don't want to be squeezed into my clothes, and I don't want to disappear inside them either.
Then I stood behind her in the post office queue
A few days later I was in the queue at the post office, behind a woman about my age. She was wearing a relaxed roll-neck jumper with a row of buttons running off to one side, and she looked comfortable and smart at the same time, which I'd almost stopped believing was possible. By the time she reached the counter, curiosity had got the better of me. I tapped her on the shoulder and asked where it was from. She laughed and said everyone asks.
It's the Marisse from Susan and Kate London, a British label started by two sisters. It's a relaxed pullover with a roll neck, and the buttons sit off to one side rather than straight down the middle. That one detail makes the whole thing look deliberate rather than baggy. I ordered mine in light blue that evening, before I could talk myself out of it.
What my daughter said on Sunday
The first proper outing was Sunday lunch at my daughter's. She opened the door, looked me up and down and said, Mum, is that new? It's very you. I didn't like to tell her I'd spent the last twenty years not knowing what very me was. Her mother-in-law was there too, and before the roast was on the table she'd asked for the name of the shop.
It has hardly been off since. Round the field with the labrador first thing, the book club on a Wednesday, and a trip into town with my sister. It looks right in all three places, and I've stopped tugging at my clothes every time I stand up.
Three things worth knowing
One. The buttons do the clever bit. They sit off to one side instead of down the middle. It's a small thing, but it's what turns a comfortable jumper into one that looks chosen rather than grabbed.
Two. Relaxed isn't the same as baggy. There's room to move. I can reach the top shelf, bend down for the dog's bowl and sit through a long lunch without anything pulling.
Three. It's made for the colder months. The roll neck keeps the draught off, and it's warm enough that I've not reached for the heating as early as usual this year.
About the price
I'll be honest, the price is usually the first thing people ask about.
The Marisse is £44.95. It was £112.50.
My first thought was that there had to be a catch, because I've paid more than that for jumpers that went straight to the charity shop after one wear. There isn't one that I've found. Susan and Kate London sell directly, with no shop in the middle taking a cut, and they have a sale on at the moment. Delivery is free, and I checked before ordering that I could send it back within 30 days if the size was wrong.
I read the reviews first, the way I imagine you're doing now. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not a suspiciously perfect five, which if anything made me trust it more. It comes in five colours, and I've already got my eye on the burgundy for Christmas.
What I'd tell you if we were friends
If you and I were sat in the garden with a pot of tea and you asked me, this is what I'd say.
Think about the last time you came out of a changing room empty-handed. If it was because everything either clung or swamped you, not because you didn't want anything new, it's worth ten minutes of your evening to have a look. Not because a jumper will change your life. It won't. But feeling comfortable and looking put-together at the same time is a small thing I'd quietly given up on, and I'd rather you didn't give up on it too.
The sale is on at the moment, and the middle sizes are always the first to go.
The jumpers that clung have gone to the charity shop. I haven't missed a single one.
Leya
Marisse | Button Roll-Neck Jumper
£112.50 £44.95
- Distinctive asymmetric button detail
- Relaxed pullover fit with room to move
- Roll neck for warmth in the colder months
- Five colours · UK 8 to 18
- Free UK delivery
Sale — while sizes last.
Leya Whitmore is 67 and lives in Guildford with a labrador. She is not a fashion writer.
Susan and Kate London · Free UK delivery · 30 day returns