"I have two sisters and a mom with a closet full of vintage Chanel, left over from her days working in one of their stores. (Would you rather: cash-based commission or Chanel bags? There's only one answer.) This means that trips home usually involve a stealth mission into Mom's closets and a subsequent family brawl over who took what, who was keeping what, and why it was absolutely, unequivocally not fair... And then I discovered my grandfather's hoard of vintage Pringle of Scotland wool sweaters, and realized I'd hit the hidden jackpot. Tan, yellow, red, robin's egg blue, orange, navy—they were all there: V-necked, slightly musty, and just begging to be worn.
"So I took one — the navy. It's scratchy, it's the most awkward amount of oversized, and it smells ever so slightly like old man. But it's also my favorite shade of blue, warm as all get-out, and every time I put it on, I think of him. I remember his daily walks to the tea shop, our weekends playing poker and reading "the funnies," and his uniform: slacks, a crisp white button down, a wool sweater, a tie on Sundays, and a herringbone cap.
"I continue to wear it because I like sweaters and awkwardly oversized things, because I get compliments on how the color brings out my eyes, and because I like feeling ever-so-slightly feminine in menswear.
"But if someone asks me where it's from, I just say, "It's vintage Pringle.
"I wear it not because it was my grandfather's, but because it's perfect."