Fringe Cardigan

Do you guys remember that scene in The Princess Diaries when Anne Hathaway’s character is changing in the back of the limo and her driver tells her they asked if he wanted the black pumps he bought her wrapped or if he wanted to wear them out the store? (Then he says one of my favorite lines: “I’ve never put on pantyhose, but it sounds dangerous.” This is true, even if you aren’t putting them on in the back seat of a car in hilly San Francisco.) I had never heard the phrase “wear them out the store” but after that, I was obsessed with wanting to purchase a pair of fancy shoes and walk out with them on, leaving my old shoes there, like a badass. That is hard to accomplish when you buy most of your shoes online or at Target. I finally got to experience my perfect wear-it-out-the-store moment when I bought a pink, fringe cardigan at H&M.

One summer day, I decided to wear a pink ribbed tank with a pair of denim shorts. I hate these kinds of tops, which are famously called wife beaters. They remind me of scenes from movies of extremely sweaty people, and not Hugh Jackman-cute sweaty. For some reason, that is what I wore. Later that day I went to the mall with my awesome friend Ana. Has anyone else noticed that people turn into zombies at the mall? It is seriously weird how slow and awkward people get. Anyway, I felt really uncomfortable and cold in my trashy outfit and needed something to cover up with. When I saw the cardigan at H&M I immediately knew I would buy it. I had it on while we continued to scan the racks then took it off to pay for it and wore it out the store. No bags, no tags, just my dream coming true. This was the only picture I could find of it online. 

Photo credit: Ahslee V from Lookbook.nu

I love anything fringe (expect the show Fringe). It is my dream to find a white leather jacket with fringe so I can dress up like Sloane Peterson from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off for Halloween or a themed movie watching party. So, naturally, I adored every aspect of the H&M cardigan—the long, delicate fringe, the kimono sleeves, and the subtle shimmer it produced when you danced around in it.

I would have worn it every day except most of my friends advised against it. They said it was best left for Coachella, which I had never heard of at the time so I wasn’t sure if it was an insult or a compliment to my free-spirited taste in clothing. Either way it sat in my wardrobe never seeing the Roman sun. 

I packed it with the rest of my belongings that were left there and no longer have it. I like to believe that a young Gypsy woman found it and was able to use its charming powers to get a job at Zara, allowing her to leave the panhandling lifestyle.