Okay, I’ve got a confession to make: the jumper you see in this post are actually two different jumpers. There’s quite a unique story about this jumper. Several years ago, my sister received a purple knitted jumper by Marks & Spencer from my Grandma. But she hardly ever wore it, so I took it Germany with me in 2012. However, it seems to have been stretched out a bit, cause the neckline and hem feels rather loose. I don’t mind, but my Grandma reckoned I should get my own jumper when I returned home.
For some reason, she got me the exact same purple one—but obviously with much better neckline and hem—and I love it to pieces. This is the only jumper I can happily wear in the tropics. Because it’s knitted, it has small pores that allow wind to slip through, but still warm enough for chilly days. The colour is subtle, but stands out, which I love. It has that classics rope-like pattern on the front and back—you know, the kind of form that often appears on knitted jumpers. Wish I could wear it more often.
Okay, I’ve got a confession to make: the jumper you see in this post are actually two different jumpers. There’s quite a unique story about this jumper. Several years ago, my sister received a purple knitted jumper by Marks & Spencer from my Grandma. But she hardly ever wore it, so I took it Germany with me in 2012. However, it seems to have been stretched out a bit, cause the neckline and hem feels rather loose. I don’t mind, but my Grandma reckoned I should get my own jumper when I returned home.
For some reason, she got me the exact same purple one—but obviously with much better neckline and hem—and I love it to pieces. This is the only jumper I can happily wear in the tropics. Because it’s knitted, it has small pores that allow wind to slip through, but still warm enough for chilly days. The colour is subtle, but stands out, which I love. It has that classics rope-like pattern on the front and back—you know, the kind of form that often appears on knitted jumpers. Wish I could wear it more often.
