A note from Leya
At 67, a customer tried to buy the jumper right off my back
Every Wednesday morning I help out at the charity shop on the high street. I steam the donations, sort the books and do a stint on the till. I wear jeans and a grey jumper, because it's Wednesday and I'm 67 and that is the uniform. Most of the volunteers wear the same.
Last Wednesday a woman brought a pile of paperbacks to the till, looked at me instead of at them, and asked something that made the whole back room laugh.
Is that one for sale? Because I'll take it.
She meant my jumper. She was entirely serious. Before she'd paid for her books, one of the other volunteers had asked where it was from, and a second customer came over to have a look at the buttons. It isn't often the woman on the till gets more attention than the rails, and I'll admit I went home in a very good mood.
How it happens
Every autumn the jumpers come out of the loft, and somewhere in your fifties they all turn the colour of a wet pavement. Grey, navy, oatmeal, a brown you can't quite name. They're warm, they're sensible, and they make a grey morning feel greyer.
The alternative the shops offer is worse. Novelty knits with reindeer on the front, or bright things cut for teenagers. Fine for an office party, not for a Wednesday on the till.
I'd settled for grey. Or I thought I had, until a woman with an armful of paperbacks tried to buy my jumper.
What I had wrong
I thought the choice was between dreary and silly. Either blend into the weather, or look like I'd lost a bet.
The answer turned out to be colour done properly. Neat blocks of colour in a grown-up geometric pattern, with a row of buttons at the neck that makes it look finished rather than fun. It's cheerful without being childish, which is harder to find than it sounds.
Same jeans. Same Wednesday. And suddenly I look like I chose what I was wearing instead of just putting on the warmest thing in the drawer.
Mine is the Crestine
It's from Susan and Kate London, a British label started by two sisters.
It's called the Crestine, and it was the pattern that made me stop scrolling. Because it's geometric rather than flowery or festive, it looks designed rather than decorated, and it goes with far more than you'd expect. There's a black and white version too, for anyone who finds colour a step too far.
The fit is relaxed through the body and sleeves, so it never clings, and it comes down to the hip, which covers what I'd rather it covered. The buttons at the neck can be done up or left open depending on the day, and the neat cuffs stop it looking slouchy. It's warm without being heavy or bulky, and I don't overheat in it the minute I walk into a shop.
What happened at the charity shop
I wore it with my usual jeans, and the questions started before I'd switched the till on. Where was it from, was it new, did it come in other colours.
My granddaughter, who thinks almost everything I own is "very Nan", saw it over the weekend and asked whether she could borrow it. I said no. That's the kind of jumper this is.
Three things I've learned since
One. A bit of colour changes the whole day. On a grey morning it's the first thing that makes me smile, and it seems to have the same effect on everyone else.
Two. The buttons make it grown-up. Without them it would just be a cheerful jumper. With them it looks considered, like something you'd wear to lunch.
Three. It goes both ways. Curled up on the sofa with leggings, it's as cosy as anything I own. With good trousers and a pair of earrings, it's ready to go out.
About the price
I want to be straightforward about this, because it was the thing that made me hesitate.
The Crestine is £29.95 at the moment. It was £59.95.
I've paid more than that for grey jumpers that made me look like the weather. For something that lifts every outfit I already own, it's the best thirty pounds I've spent all year.
I did what I imagine you're doing now and read the reviews before I ordered. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.8 stars. Not a suspiciously perfect five, which if anything made me trust it more.
What I'd tell you if we were friends
If you and I were sat in the back room of the charity shop with a cup of tea and you asked me, this is what I'd say. So here it is, the short version.
Keep your jeans and your comfortable shoes. Just put the grey jumper at the back of the drawer and let a bit of colour out for the winter. It doesn't have to be loud, and it certainly doesn't need a reindeer on it.
Two practical things. The sale is on now, and the middle sizes always go first. It runs from a UK 8 to an 18.
My old grey jumpers have gone to the charity shop. I put them out on the rail myself.
Leya
Crestine | Classic Comfort Jumper
£59.95 £29.95
- Geometric colour-block pattern, cheerful not childish
- Henley-style button neckline
- Relaxed fit through the body and sleeves
- Hip length with neat cuffs
- Multicoloured or monochrome
- UK sizes 8 to 18
- Free UK delivery
Sale on now. The middle sizes go first.
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