love loss and what I wore - fuzzy

Stylist: Marie Dehe
Ph: Andrea Pola
Cerruti knit, American Apparel Peter Pan collar, Stouls skirt


When I was a kid my mum had this jumper that was thick and fuzzy and crayola blue bright. It must have been mohair or something, because it was so soft to my 5 year old touch, and I remember thinking that it was the cookie monster jumper. In my favourite ever photo of my mum she is wearing it on a New Years Eve in wintry, sub-zero Toronto where she lived and worked as an intern at the "Hospital for Sick Children" (no joke, that is what their children's hospital is called) for a year. In the photo she is clutching a bottle of champagne and pouring it into a champagne saucer, so chic, with a look of concentration and glee and a smile that is just like mine. That day her and her best friend had gone to the mall on their day off to get supplies for the party that night. Rugged up in coats and gloves and that jumper they had, stupidly, caught the bus. As they alighted at the front of the mall they realised that the bus stop was about 500 metres away - across a carpark. Whenever I complain of cold or worry about chilly weather, my mum shakes her head with that world-weary way of wiser adults and says "You've never felt cold until you've run across a carpark in Toronto and felt the skin peel from your face as you go". She said that when they got to the mall their Canadian friends stared at them in disbelief. Who would have run across the carpark in such freezing, freezing weather when, in winter, the bus actually goes one stop more to the Mall door. Of course, they didn't know this at the time. 

I don't even know where that jumper is right now. But these shots from the RUSSH blog - wonderful original content from some of the most creative, dreamy people in the world - reminded me of it. My mum even wore hers in the same way - a long-ish black skirt, the collar of a contrasting shirt poking out from underneath, sleeves pulled all the way down over the wrists (not rolled up as I do with mine, there is something where we differ), messy short hair. My mum was a bit of a babe back in the day. She had all these great clothes, most of whose locations I have no idea about. I inherited what seems to me to be a measly slab compared to some of the wonders in the grainy photos I've seen. Where is that glorious camel coat with Ali McGraw in Love Story oversized lapels? What about those Bruno Magli court shoes in sinful red? And this fuzzy, slightly oversized sweater with the perfect o-neck in an unmissable 80s blue? She doesn't remember, and it's all my loss and none of what she wore.

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