Don’t get me wrong: I love exuding heat and the thin wispy layers of summer. The loose t-shirts and the outrageous sunglasses. The warmth of the air in between your legs as you lie in the sun in shorts or a skirt making a new step to the hours.
But I really, really want to wear my gruffalo jumper.
I brought it as one of two jumpers – one grey, one white. This was when I was playing around with an outfit idea based on the ugly duckling. As I turned older it transformed into a gruffalo, matching the maturing of my identity. My face make up reconfigured from heavily eyelinered eyes and too much foundation, to eyebrow weight gain and naked-ness everywhere else (god bless the millennial make up trends!). This gives the jumper a “morning-after-the-night-before” roughness where your eyes sink bloodshot into the new day’s coffee. A comforting bluntness to any battered thoughts that resurface.
It’s monstrous, and shapeless and eats me whole. As far as I can tell I think everyone hates the jumper. But they’re supposed to. I like to think it’s from the wild, just like the fictional children’s book character I associate with it, so keep away ! Beware the jumper or it will eat you too.