Because Sweater Weather
By, Lauren Vogelstein
When I
became an oh so very sophisticated and mature college student (who filled her
dorm freezer with as many frozen Kashi pizzas as were humanly possible because
that is all she ate/could cook and really pissed off her roommates for taking
up all of the freezer room like the mature adult she was (I still don’t know
how my noodle arms managed to drag 20+ frozen pizzas from the Gristedes back to
my college dorm room at a time)), I declared that fall was my favorite weather.
Because sweaters. Wrapping yourself up in the coziest of sweaters, while
drinking hot chocolate and pretending it’s grown up coffee, and taking a walk
through the leaf piles in central park made me feel like the most grown up of
ladies Sex and the City style (hint, if you need to make yourself feel like a
grown up lady, you probably aren’t, even though I hear some people never
actually feel like grown ups, which will probably be the story of my life). Fall
meant feeling like the grown up New Yorker of my dreams, wrapped in the knitted
poncho and oversized scarf of my mother’s nightmares.
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| This is a grown up (questionable) 20 year old feeling her Magnolia Bakery Fall Sweater Fantasy aka feeling like a grown up and eating like a child |
As I began
to theoretically grow up (because time goes on and we age although not
necessarily in a direct relationship to our maturity levels) I still declared a
love for sweater weather, but more so because it meant wearing hipster thrift
shop treasures that felt like you were essentially bringing your cozy comforter
burrito experience with you everywhere you went. And to my mother’s horror (she
eventually made me get rid of this treasure, although it resides it my best
friend’s closet in Philadelphia, because it needed a loving home where it was
not in danger of being thrown away) I sported this gem around and it made me
feel like sweater weather was invented only so that this magnificent piece of
fashion could be shown to the world.
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| Yet again I loved consuming sugary confections in my coolest threads, feeling like such an independent woman (am I right Destiny’s Child?) |
When I
really started to grow up (no really, this time it was for real) and began
dating Jake, I bought this sweater to wear on our first camping trip. This
sweater screamed, “I’m a cool hip cozy lady who can do outdoorsy things like
pee outside and likes it and you should want to date me,” projecting my
expertise in both shopping and camping (possibly lack of expertise in this
department, but who cares because it worked, Jake is still somehow dating me,
proof that sweaters really do have magical powers).
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| Picture of me in said sweater on said camping trip looking like a non-crazy person in her element (can’t you tell how out doorsy I am?) |
Dating
Jake didn’t just come with excuses to buy cool gently used cozy sweaters, it
also came with being introduced to a new world of amazing people, including the
one and only Robert. Rob possessed many magical powers that immediately
convinced me he was the coolest person on this planet. Rob could spout pop
cultural references faster than Mindy Kaling being dragged by Usain Bolt,
hopped up on Red Bull (which one of these beautiful people is hopped up on Red
Bull, Mindy? Usain? both? I don’t know, I probably should have used better
grammar and maybe not the phrase “hopped up”). He could pack away bagel bites
by the package akin to Liz Lemon inhaling night cheese in her bright blue
snuggie. And thanks to Rob the birthday cake made of ice cream sandwiches that
I made one summer for Jake was quickly consumed and saved from being brutally
maimed by freezer burn in their freezer. Most importantly, Rob accompanied me
to the fantastical Broadway theater experience known as Side Show (the only
person I didn’t need to convince that this musical revival about conjoined
twins would be the best $50 anyone could spend) and enthusiastically scarfed
down street pizza together on our way to the theater like the classy adults we
were. The more I got to know about Rob and the more time I spent with him, the
more I became a Robert fan girl. And then he told me about sweater week.
Sweater week people, an entire week (or more or less depending on the season)
of witty musings about everyone’s favorite article of clothing and the weather
that goes along with it to make you want to wear it. This was the most
brilliant thing I had ever heard of (even more brilliant than Lin Manuel
Miranda hosting SNL this week). Here was someone who captured the magic of
sweaters and shared it with the world in the best way possible, through his
unique and feisty way of seeing the world. Through reading everyone’s incredible
SweaterWeek posts this year, I can tell that we are all trying to recapture the
magic of Rob through our memories and through our sweaters.
Sweater wearing at its best and most delusional
So maybe
it’s the delusion of awesomeness that gives sweaters and their accompanying
weather their magical powers when they embrace you in the coziest of hugs. Or
maybe it’s just that Rob always knew the right combination of sugary foods and
warm clothing made for the best of everything.
A success
for everyone involved (including baby Lauren rocking this baller sweater)
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| If only this sweater still came in my size… |
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