Confession Number 71 :
I'm addicted to the buttons. As in, full blown cardi-a-holic. I figured the actual number was just in the teens, but in a fit of honesty, I counted and friends, it's in the upper twenties.
(Thank God BC is out of town and probably not reading this post)
(Also thank you God that we do not share a closet, and therefore he has little reason to add up the sweaters)
I began a discussion yesterday (on the ol' facebook) asking just how many cardigans one could have while still maintaining some sense of preservation and based on the comments received, the answer is:
(drum roll please)
It was like a support group for cardi-druggies - those of us strung out on cotton and cashmere, whose fingers start to shake if we go too many days without buttoning up. I felt like a needed a donut or something afterwards (instead I had a small roll slathered with lemon marmalade, but more on that later).
One of the most brilliant outcomes of that little fess-up is a new site, put together on the spot by Miss Désirée Fawn
, aptly titled The Cardigan Confessional
(name curtesy of my Em
, also of the cardigan-persuassion) where one can submit and peruse the best in cardigan imagery and acceptance.
The best thing about a cardi-addiction? You're in an elite group of women who know how to look smashing.
I feel absolved of my stripes.
Your turn ladies
Fess it up!