Nobody wants to look like an unrelenting rectangle, cashmere or otherwise. On to the glorious v-neck. And on to a sampling from Land’s End, Madewell, Pure Collection, and Brora.

You might want to know how the brands compare. Well, no sooner said than done. We’ll take the business approach, leading with an executive summary.

Cashmere Comparison Summary

• Land’s End. Oblong styling, hand (feel) a bit slippery but nicely substantial. Kept. $140.
• Pure Collection. Shorter than Land’s End, more nipped in round the waist, hand similar to Land’s End, color WAY off from web and catalog. Returned. $138 list price, on sale for $70-$103.
• Madewell. The model I bought is called the Cabin Sweater for good reason. Styled like a loose-middled long-sleeved pocket tee, very boyfriend-esque. One could wear it quite happily in, yes, a cabin. Hand, soft, not slippery, not heavy. Kept. $158 list price, only XS remains, on sale for $99.
• Brora. Classic styling with a slight edge, low v, arms a little long, banded waist, hand to die for, i.e. strong, a little prickle that softens to heavenly. List price £195, on sale for £145. (This comes out to about $225. Conversion via XE, but we’re full service around here.) Kept, with the hope of more in future.

Operational Detail

This is the part where we give more information for you executives who have not already begun to yearn for your email, or, these days, check it on laptop or mobile device.

Land’s End

Perfectly serviceable. True Navy is just that, true. Not too dark, not too purple, not too perky. V is moderately deep. No shaping of note, but nothing wrong either. I worry only that the cashmere is slippery because, as the Queen of Cashmere told us in her extremely useful interview here, it’s of lower quality and has been “washed” for this effect. We will have to see how the knit endures.

Madewell

This is what I wore here. I love this piece, but in all honesty, it’s not really a work sweater. I bought a size M, returned it thinking it was too big, and realized upon receiving the S that it’s SUPPOSED to be big. I couldn’t bear to return yet again, so I wear as is. But since it’s a) of lightweight cashmere b) a little tight in the arms, I can’t wear a button front underneath. If this sweater were to magically appear in a black, or, I dunno, forest green, I’d buy two in a size and live in them on the weekends. At a guess, Madewell relies on the J. Crew cashmere empire, so I’d recommend a J. Crew v-neck if the styling and colors suit you. ($168)

Pure Collection

This sweater felt like the Land’s End version, but was shorter in the torso and longer in the sleeve. I was so mad that the Blue Haze was in fact Smog Grey that I bundled everything back up and returned it on the next post. At that point they were out of Indigo, so I broke up with Pure and am still sulking in my tent like Achilles.

Brora

Well this is what cashmere is supposed to feel like. Tough – but another dimension of soft altogether. Worn here, this is the sweater I want to put on almost every day. Roomy enough for a button front underneath, sufficient shape for a little je ne sais quoi. A term I use advisedly, as in I really can’t articulate what gives this sweater such silhouette style. BTW, for anyone converting to British sizes, I’m a size 4 in J. Crew tops, and a size 12 in Brora sweaters.

Let me add a few additional data points from my chequered cashmere past. My mother gave me a Bloomingdale’s private label black v-neck two years ago. I like the silhouette, here, but it’s pilling like crazy already. Four or five years ago my sister gave me, at my request, a navy twinset from Isle of Skye. It’s too scratchy. I want my cashmere tough but not hostile. My favorite sweater ever, shown here, came from TSE. They’re doing a lot of yellowish this year so I’m out of luck. Those who favor burned hues, enjoy.

Other people swear by Eric Bompard. This may be my next experiment, on sale (~$205) until February 14. Especially if Duchesse will tell me what size I ought to order.

I will add that I pass right by all Brunello Cucinelli, despite the mythic mountain village which ostensibly knits their goods. I cannot imagine anything worth five times what I paid for Brora. Unless it has magic powers to fly me to Italy, in which case, value granted.

I am not sure whether it’s good news or bad that with cashmere, apparently, one gets what one pays for. On the other hand, even when one pays less, it’s a very nice sweater.

By the way, that interview with the Queen of Cashmere may be the most useful post I’ve published, so here’s the link again.

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For example, what do you think of this little red peplumed Moschino number from Yoox? Techno-fabric, zippers, motorcycle cuffs. $232.00 down to $79. Over a ladylike pencil skirt, maybe in apricot? With gray yoga pants, on a weekend? One never knows until one tries. At $79, trying is feasible.

Or give Brooks Brothers a go. The talented designer on their bag team is a fairly well-kept secret. If you want to branch out with a pastel for spring color blocking, perforated aqua leather seems quite the thing. Down from $298 to $119.20. If the patent trim strikes you as too-too, they’ve got classics on sale as well.

Jewelry lovers are not left out of the fun. Alexis Bittar, my favorite non-precious metal guy, has a big sale on now. Just in case you were dreaming of bronze Lucite danglers. Don’t we all want to participate in the Steven Tyler-induced feather trend? Down from $295 to $147.50. Black tee, black pants, and you’re surprising all kinds of people.

Because everyone has an imagination, even the Sturdy. Maybe especially the Sturdy. Have you found anything thrilling in the winter sales?

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I am not saying that a marriage without children has no meaning.

I am not saying there there is no virtue in trying, and hanging in there, and persevering.

I am certainly not saying that Kim Kardashian has it right.

I am not saying that if you’ve promised to care for someone and you break your promise it’s a good thing.

I am not saying shame should not be felt over infidelity, abuse, neglect, misuse, deceit, denial.

I am only saying that when it’s all over, if there are children, more attention should be paid to their well-being than anything else, including shame. That society might want to scaffold the process a bit more carefully. And if I am truthful, I am saying all this now and wishing I could have said it 35 years ago, and 25 years ago, and 20 and 15 and 10 years ago. But I didn’t know.

And now, maybe, I can say I hope you are having a wonderful weekend and I do apologize for having dug up sorrow in the deconstruction.

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On the one hand, why pay attention? Divorce is common. Just because these are famous people? No. No. Because divorce is heady and raw and difficult, and remains one of our most uncivilized processes.

You know that we haven’t solved marriage, don’t you? Especially modern marriage. People have been tying the knot for centuries, but only pattern we know now for, what, 70 years? Give or take. We allowed love in, and free choice, then justice-infused divorce. Thus we found ourselves here. With a difficult and apparently intractable pain in our heart.

Nobody wants to get divorced. It feels horrible. So personally horrible in my case that you may want to discount everything I say. But even if I take my own reaction with a grain of salt, the analysis troubles me. All kinds of institutions spend all kinds of energy on the wrongness of divorcing. And yet it happens, frequently. Here’s my question. Do we need to, if I can use the term, deconstruct?

Are we, as a society, taking the wrong approach? Is all the cultural language around staying married only sound and fury? I’d like a closer look at why we think it’s best to stay married. While we see all sorts of data saying it’s best for children, which I will not dispute, while the religious have their codes, what other remarkable benefit or virtue to long marriages can we find? Other than preservation of capital, and happiness, I cannot think of one.

Happiness is a private matter.

Let’s presume, just for the sake of deconstruction, that the primary driver of society’s focus on marriage should be the welfare of children. In that case, given that it appears to be so hard to stay married, should we maybe spend more time understanding the real machinery of child nurture, than on marriage endurance itself?

Bear with me. Imagine an engineered system. In this case, the design center being the care of children. But let’s say that system has a particular sub-system with a high failure rate. Let’s say, hypothetically, that one has to house rocket engines in glass, and that no matter how much time you spend optimizing the design, explosions happen. Don’t you then shift to designing the ground below the rocket, to minimize damage? Don’t you then start working on your glass-melting processes? Your recycling, if you will? Systems should degrade gracefully.

You can imagine what that might look like, the way things might change.

I mean in no way to minimize the pain of marriages’ end, or our desire that they last. I am only asking that we start to tease out the next thread of thinking and expand parameters under consideration. That’s what one does when problems don’t get solved in a reasonable period of time.

But balance my ideas here. Go and read Miss Whistle, a blog by Bumble Ward. She posts a lot of poetry, but in between poems you’ll find some absolutely painful and beautiful writing on the startled end of a long marriage.

Or visit Delia Loyd, who often writes about how to stay married, at Real Delia.

Deconstruction aside, I encourage you, if this is happening to someone in your life, to forgive. To anneal, if you can, what’s shattered. It may or may not be their fault, and in any case, there’s no more to be gained from shame. What matters is the children, and that’s where we ought to focus our societal heart.

Have a lovely weekend. I hope your dear ones are sleeping nearby.

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This is my new friend. It’s a  hair fork. But you knew that. It lets me do this.

In case you are thinking, “Oh that looks complicated,” here’s what, it’s not. Behold the instructions. I pull my hair back with one hand,  as though for a high ponytail. Then I hold the ponytail and twist. Just before the twist starts to kink, I  wrap it around the place where a rubber band would be. If, of course, this were a ponytail, which it isn’t. Then I take the fork in my free hand, turn it upside down with the curve of the prongs facing away from me, dig it into the top of the formed bun, and then flip it so the tine are now pointing down and curved towards my head.. Then I gently wiggle it back down through my hair next to my scalp, until firmly imbedded. In my hair, not my scalp. You’d think I didn’t need to say that, but given my lack of small coordination, in fact, I do.

For the first time in my adult life I can put my hair up with relative ease. What’s more, I can put my hair back up, once I’ve inevitably disturbed Version 1.0. I like this ‘do without a collared shirt. Somehow it seems to go better with the slightly artsy vibe of an open neckline. What? To a Sturdy Gal, collarless is close to artsy.

My new friend makes me feel graceful. Even when I’m just going to stomp around in black pants, a loose sweater, and comfortable shoes.

I’d give you a link for purchase, were you so inclined, but I bought the dang thing from a woman at a street craft fair. Perhaps she was a magic hair witch, appearing only once every 100 years. The combination of wood’s lightness with metallic paint is kind of unbeatable.

I will confess one thing. The Nike-style swoosh atop my head? The sort of 1940′s wave? Wholly serendipitous. Couldn’t do it again on purpose. But one should never look the Hair Gods in the mouth. Onwards and literally upwards.

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I generated a random number, as one does. I suppose Get Your Own is the analog component to a digital Random Number. Purpose compared to Fate.

A winner was born. Diane Sibon, congratulations! Please email me at the Skye Peale address to the right, with your address, and I will ship these off tout de suite.

I do love giving you guys presents. I think I’ll try to beat the bushes for some more giveaways.

Yours in analog friendship,

Lisa

EDIT: Aaaack! There was a 22 and I failed in my efforts to be wholly fair! I’m very bad at numbers, have I ever told you that? Hostess of the Humble Bungalow, she of the wonderful dinner parties, will receive an apology present to make up for my quantitative shortcomings.

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You might be interested in a philosophy for bathing suit coverups. “Wait,” you say, “Philosophies are not required in this realm. Just throw on any dang thing!” But think about it for a minute.

• If you go on vacation some place hot, very few of those cute shorts and pique dresses will make it out of your suitcase.
• You’re gonna be in a bathing suit most of the time. (Much better to wear a wet bathing suit until dry, than to remove it and have to put it back on again, still wet. Blurgh.)
• You’re not going to want to wear only a bathing suit to eat, or walk through lobbies, once you pass the age of about 15.

And there you have it.

A coverup may be worn more often than anything else. Let’s say you don’t bother to bring anything special. No harm done. But that’s a lot of hours logged in the only big t-shirt you own. Which may or may not belong to one of your children, and may or may not sport subversive or profane language.

Now if you purchase without a philosophy, you’re at risk of winding up bedazzled, terry-clothed rompered, or doomed to a bilious shade of lavender. Fashioned of horrid cotton crepe, no less. And don’t even think about buying your coverup in resort-land. They will charge you a premium the likes of which is rarely seen in the temperate zone.

So, should my admittedly somewhat tenuous logic have convinced you, here’s a conceptual framework

A Peripatetic Philosophy for Covering Up Your Bathing Suit.

(By the way, we don’t say swimsuit in my culture. I have no idea why.)

1. If you are on a rustic vacation, i.e. the Swedish Archipelago, Maine, or a mountain lake, wear a button front shirt with long sleeves. After all, you’re hiding from the sun as much as anything else. To say nothing of the possibility that someone might ask you to gut a fish.. Chambray is nice.

Plaid has the tomboy and hipster stamp of approval. You’ll want a bandanna to go with.

2. If you are in a Northern Hemisphere spot during the warm season, or at a neighborhood pool/lake, go sporty. Navy blue and military green are always appropriate near water. Sad but true; borders have been historically risky. Here’s an olive weave.

And a striped navy knit.

3. If you are off to the tropics, wear a floaty tunic. I had always relied on sarongs but frankly one tires of knotted ends and sunburned shoulders. Here’s what I found myself yearning for, in Hawaii. This silhouette is going to look good on most everyone. (Of course, if you are traveling by sailboat, the game changes. A good marinière and some baggy chinos will more than do.)

This one is sedate in fabric and shape, the pattern keeps us in vacation territory.

Secret tip. Don’t buy your coverup to match your bathing suit, per se. Buy it to match your skin tone. Because the suit will be, for the most part, you know, covered up. This one would do my skin tone good – although the transparent silk offers little help with sun avoidance.

One final thought. What about crochet, mesh, or lace? I believe they are fine for certain ages, either under 25 or over 65, but awfully difficult for the rest of us. This I wouldn’t wear anywhere, at any age. Besides, the resultant tan lines are confusing at best.

Feel free to ignore all of the above advice. Water is the great leveler. It’s hard to maintain dignity when you’re soaking wet, and may not be worth the effort. But if you, like me, are pursued by the Devil of Appropriate, I’m happy to deconstruct until the manatees come home.

Chambray via L.L. Bean
Plaid via Steven Alan
Olive Green via Zappos
Navy Stripes via Joie a la Plage
Green Beaded via Bluefly
Blue and Yellow via Joie a la Plage
Floaty Blue via Lotty B.

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Well.

Working means that you have to do everything you want to do at once, and, even more demandingly, at the same time as everyone else. I know that’s Grown Up Knowledge Lesson One, but even relearned lessons can feel new.

For walking to work in San Francisco

Here’s what I didn’t know before I spent two and a half years in retirement; the most annoying person to work with is me. I am the boss who gives vague assignments, sets impossible task lists, acknowledges success only when asked, and pesters my employee to relieve my own inner anxieties. This is not how I behave at work, mind you. Just when I am my own boss.

For walking to work in San Francisco, cold mornings variation

So even though I am getting less done, outside of work, my inner life is calmer now than when I was retired. Inn fact, calmer than it’s even been. Because I used to think that if I just didn’t have to work, everything would get done, that all nagging anxieties would cease. But guess what? I retired. Everything did get done, finally. Nagging anxieties, however, persisted. Grew, in some ways, because that very freedom gained enlarged the territory for self-expectation.

Now that I know having time to do everything doesn’t solve anything, my capacity for So What? has improved enormously. So What is the greatest tool for To Do List anxiety in the known universe.

Under a navy blue cashmere v-neck

Roses behaving badly? So what! Hydrangea wilting? So what! Eating from the Whole Foods takeout counter too often? So what!

See cashmere v-neck, navy blue, above

The only things that remain on my To Do list with any tenacity are an annual physical, for obvious reasons,  car servicing, for equally obvious reasons including the horror of sidelining a Northern California freeway, and blog posting. I am hell-bent on keeping Privilege going and the weeks where I come up short drive me nuts.

Which brings us to the question, why include pictures of clothing today? Saturdays are generally image-free round here. Well, because, when you work, you have to do everything that matters at once. This is the stuff I’m considering acquiring after my finances recover from Hawaii. I figured I could list it here for my own review, and entertain you too. All at once.

Have a wonderful weekend.

J. Crew Field Jacket $148
Ralph Lauren Cashmere Skull Cap $119 sale price
Liberty of London Tana Lawn shirt £89.95
Ann Mashburn Boyfriend Shirt in orange $175

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But I’m digressing. In fact I want to show you something nifty I won in a blog giveaway, and offer you all something in turn. After all, if we’re going to have to participate in wholly new social platforms and modalities, we might as well get to make up the rules of good behavior. I propose that if you win something, you ought to give something else away.

So what was my prize? And to whom do I owe thanks?

These are Korres pomegranate makeup wipes. Why it’s psychologically daunting to wash one’s face upon returning home from work I do not know, but such is life. Wipes help you avoid that hostile sink. I have Lily Lemontree to thank for my newly smooth and more often clean face. Thank her I do, for her blog as well. If you like to vote on best-dressed celebrities (yes, I confess) and be entertained by images of the Beautiful Ones, please do visit.

So what am I giving away? These Beautifeel shoes.

Victoria is the model name. They are a size 37, roughly equivalent to a US size 7. Condition? Never been worn. Heel height? 4 cm.

Color? Greyer than they show here on the web, so I’d put them at a true taupe. How much greyer? I’d planned to wear them with a grey skirt, that’s how much. Materials? Stamped leather and a black patent strap.

I wear Beautifeel shoes almost every day on my 30 minute walk to and from work – happily. I loathe foot pain with the force of a thousand wailing demons and these shoes cause none. Ordered them in the December sale, a stupidly high instep make the patent strap cut too tightly. Anyone with more intelligently designed feet should find them heavenly.

They are yours, dear reader with a size 7 foot and a horror of foot pain, for the price of a comment indicating your interest. As always, a brief story would be appreciated. Let us say, this time, about a very comfortable or uncomfortable pair of shoes from your past. We do not expect soap operas, narratives of all types accepted.

And, so, in the end, we see that soap operas retain relevance. Although I suppose the point was already proven by the culture’s current fascination with undead of all sorts. Dark Shadows anyone?

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This middle time of life is one of the few when we can strike the right balance between occupied and lonely. Weightless and anchored still.

I even have a soundtrack. See what you think of this informal dressing-room rehearsal of The Band’s song. Some middle-aged people enjoy themselves quite a lot.

Wilco, Nick Lowe, and Mavis Staples Rehearse “The Weight”

All thanks for this link go to Jamie at A Desert Fete and Hank + Lucy. Jamie designed Privilege, and her aesthetic sensibilities are among my favorites. As are photos of her wholly adorable baby boy.

Have a wonderful weekend.

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