By Kelvin Tshuma 
Stop buying cardigans that look like they were knitted by a depressed machine in a basement. You know the ones—the flimsy, translucent cotton-blends from the mall that lose their shape the second you sit down in an office chair. They make you look like a soggy biscuit. I spent most of 2016 looking like a soggy biscuit because I thought ‘a cardigan is a cardigan.’ I was wrong.
I remember distinctly wearing this charcoal H&M special to a first date at a dive bar in Wicker Park. It was October. By the time I took my coat off, the elbows had already bagged out so much I looked like I had actual tumors growing out of my joints. Then I spilled a bit of cheap bourbon on the cuff and the fabric just… disintegrated? Not literally, but it matted into this weird, shiny scab. I felt like a mess. The date went fine, but the sweater went in the trash the next morning. That was the day I decided to stop buying garbage knitwear.
The heavy hitter that actually lasts
If you want a cardigan that actually does the job of a jacket, you buy the Dehen 1920 Shawl Cardigan. It’s expensive. It’s like $400 or something ridiculous now. But here is the thing: I have tracked the wear on mine for three winters. I’ve worn it at least 150 times. The cuffs, which are exactly 2.5 inches of reinforced ribbing, have stretched by less than 4 millimeters. I measured them with a digital caliper because I’m a nerd and I wanted to see if the ‘heavyweight’ marketing was real. It is.
It’s four pounds of worsted wool. It’s basically armor. You can’t wear it under a tight coat because you’ll look like the Michelin Man, but you don’t need to. It’s the only sweater I’ve ever owned that feels like it might outlive me. Most people say it’s too stiff. They’re right. It feels like wearing a carpet for the first week. But once it breaks in? Best thing ever.
Worth every single penny.
The ‘I might be wrong’ middle ground
I used to tell everyone to buy the Uniqlo U oversized cardigans. I was completely wrong. Well, not completely, but I’ve changed my mind on the longevity. What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. They are great for exactly one season. I bought the 2021 version in three colors (brown, cream, and black) and by month six, the pilling under the arms was so aggressive it looked like the sweater was growing hair.
However, if you are on a budget, the standard Uniqlo Extra Fine Merino is still the only ‘thin’ cardigan that doesn’t look like trash. I tested it against the J.Crew equivalent and the Banana Republic one. The Uniqlo held its stitch tension 22% better after five cold-water washes. I know people will disagree and say J.Crew has better colors, but the J.Crew necklines always sag after two hours of wear. I hate a sagging neckline. It looks lazy.
The secret to a good cardigan isn’t the wool softness; it’s the stitch density. If you can see light through the knit when you hold it up, it’s going to bag out by noon.
Why I refuse to buy Everlane anymore
I’m just going to say it: I hate Everlane’s cardigans. This is probably unfair because their marketing is so clean and everyone loves their ‘transparency’ or whatever, but their buttons are the worst in the industry. They feel like cheap, hollow plastic teeth. I bought their Grade-A Cashmere cardigan in 2019 and two buttons snapped in half within a month. Just snapped. Who makes buttons that brittle?
Plus, their cashmere is too thin. Cashmere is mostly a scam anyway when it comes to cardigans. It’s too delicate for something you’re constantly buttoning and unbuttoning. You want something with some guts. Wool, alpaca, even a high-quality acrylic blend is better than cheap, thin cashmere that pilled if you even look at it funny. I actively tell my friends to avoid that specific line. It’s a waste of $150.
Total lie of a product.
The weird one that actually works
There is this brand called Babaà. They make these ‘Jumper no. 19’ cardigans that are technically for women, but the cut is so boxy and huge that it doesn’t matter. I bought one in a dark oak color. It’s made in Spain from local wool that feels like it was harvested from a sheep that spent its life picking fights with wolves. It’s scratchy. It’s rough. It smells slightly like a farm when it gets damp.
- Weight: 950g of pure Spanish wool.
- Texture: Like a high-end exfoliating glove.
- Durability: I once got it caught on a literal nail and the nail bent. The sweater was fine.
Anyway, I went on a tangent there about the nail, but the point is that we’ve been conditioned to think ‘soft’ means ‘good.’ It doesn’t. Soft usually means the fibers are short and will break and pill. Rough means the fibers are long and strong. If you wear a long-sleeve t-shirt under the Babaà, the itch doesn’t matter. You just feel… solid.
A quick rant about pockets
Why do designers put pockets on cardigans if they aren’t going to reinforce the openings? If you put your phone in a standard knit pocket, the whole left side of your sweater will hang three inches lower than the right side within an hour. It’s a structural nightmare. Unless the cardigan is a heavy rib-knit (like the Dehen), don’t use the pockets. Treat them like they’re decorative. Or better yet, sew them shut.
I’m serious. I’ve ruined two very nice mohair pieces by putting my keys in the pockets. Mohair has zero structural integrity. It’s basically a cloud held together by prayers. I love the look, but it’s the most impractical fabric ever created for a person who actually moves their arms.
Don’t be that guy with the lopsided sweater.
I don’t know why I care this much about knitwear. Maybe it’s because a good cardigan makes me feel like a functional adult even when I’m just sitting on my couch eating cereal at 11 PM. It’s a weird middle ground between a robe and a suit jacket. But I’m starting to wonder if the ‘perfect’ one even exists, or if I’m just chasing a feeling of coziness that no amount of boiled wool can actually provide.
Buy the Dehen if you’re rich. Buy the Uniqlo if you’re not. Avoid the cashmere.