how to de-businesscasual a tunic sweater
🕊️ Ceasefire Now in Gaza 🕊️
I think of 2010s Banana Republic. The cream colored chunky knit things styled on headless mannequins with mid-rise jewel tone slacks named after imaginary WASPs like Sloan or Harper.
I think of the first-year analysts at my consulting job, the kinds of outfits we wore to get Mendocino Farms for lunch. The cream colored chunky knit thing was what we thought Cool Professional Women wore. The tunic flap hanging over the tops of our skinny jeans from college. I can’t decide if it made us look more or less juvenile.
This was when I still read magazine articles about “day to night” looks and really believed that was a styling skill I needed to learn. When most nights I couldn’t wait to just go home, order my $12 chicken pad see ew, wash off my Glossier stretch concealer that flaked aggressively under the office AC and lie in bed wondering about the financial consequences of quitting before my contract was completed.
Anyways. I haven’t touched a tunic sweater for years. It reminds me of Office Culture. I would say I generally dislike them, despite what the title of this post might imply.
I don’t even know why I was drawn to it. Maybe the long lines down the front? I was browsing cashmere hoodies on TRR and sort of like the color and knit detail, but I remember telling myself “I don’t wear tunic sweaters so why would I get that.” Still—I saved it to my likes and checked on it every day.
It went on sale. I saw 18 other people hearted it. This arbitrary number of strangers deluded me into thinking that there was maybe something quite special about it after all. I looked at it some more. I sent it to Ethaney. She said she could see how it could be cute.
I ordered it and hoped for the best.