In the past two weeks, I have bought eight cardigans in three different styles:
- one boyfriend cardigan in pink
- one boyfriend cardigan in walnut
- one boyfriend cardigan in red
- one semi-boyfriend cardigan in natural
- one semi-boyfriend cardigan in navy
- one draped cardigan in natural
- one draped cardigan in blue
- one draped cardigan in pink
Even as I type this, two more cardigans are making their way across the Atlantic to my house.
Yes, the cardigan sings a siren’s call to me. I can be strolling down the mall to buy a present that has nothing to do with clothes, and I’ll have an urge to “just check to see if JJill has any new colors.” Or I’ll swear I have enough cardigans only to receive a Boden catalog that features a pretty new style on the cover, and I’m sunk. Or my credit card is.
I convince myself that I need cardigans, and I do. Anyone who has spent any time in the library during the summer knows it can get quite frigid back in the office area. Still, I realize that the need has become a want (even a vice) when I have more cardigans than days in the week, and colleagues are saying things like, “So you are planning to send some back?”
Yes, cardigans are my vice. But I bet you have one too. It may be shoes. It may be make-up. It may be chocolate. And in many cases, these vices are fairly harmless. But when they can get in your way of happiness and financial security, you may have to develop an action plan.
Here’s what I’ve done:
- Have a strict one-in, one-out policy. I can keep a new cardigan, only if an older one goes to a friend or Goodwill.
- Set a limit that defines when cardigan love has moved to cardigan obsession. (And, yes, I have reached it this year.)
- Do not open catalogs or emails from certain companies.
- Expose myself to the scathing ridicule of my library colleagues. (You’ve never been put down until you’ve been put down by library folks! All that researching makes them hard to fool.)
And if you happen to be wearing an especially cute cardigan, please don’t come in the library.