To my surprise, I get genuine compliments when I were this sweater. I never expect to. The point of buying it, in my mind, was the fact that it’s potentially hideous. And I love ugly sweaters well after the holiday parties.
I like to imagine sometime in the mid 90s, an aunt Marg from Grand Rapids made this gem for her 12 year old niece and it stayed in that girl’s closet, only to remerge when Auntie come to visit. Because, minus a few frayed patches, it’s still well preseved.
Sweater: thrifted (obviously)
Denim: Good American