Ralph Lauren Cable-Knit Sweater: Your parents lied on their taxes, and you did, too. But they premeditated their fraud; you’re just incompetent.
Chunky White Turtleneck: You’ve made the “When Harry Met Sally” New Year’s speech to at least five different women.
Gray Wool Sweater: You are in a TV commercial, struggling to play with your grandchild because of your rheumatoid arthritis.
Black Turtleneck: You are about to do something very shady in the tech industry. Or you’re going for French-chic minimalism, but you don’t have the haircut to pull it off. We can all see the deodorant stains and cat hair.
Après-Ski Sweater: You can afford to go skiing, though you don’t enjoy it. You just like networking in the lodge. One more overpriced whiskey with Bill in private equity in front of a gas fireplace and you’ll seal the deal. Celebrate over cigars with Samuel in venture capital on a perilously icy patio.
Princess Diana-Style “Black Sheep” Jumper: You are trying to get your mother-in-law’s attention. And if for a single moment she’d stop mourning someone she never met who died decades ago, she’d probably appreciate the effort.
Official Taylor Swift-Merch Chunky Cardigan: You own every Taylor Swift album on vinyl, and you’ve seen her perform four times in three different countries. You’re in your credit-card-debt era.
Kansas City Chiefs Sweater: You are Taylor Swift. Or my dad’s cousin Andrew who lives on the Missouri side of Kansas City. One of those two people.
Mister Rogers Cardigan: You are a fifty-five-year-old man working for a suburban bank, counting down the days till your retirement, or you are a twenty-four-year-old amateur skateboarder in a Bushwick polycule.
Cosby Sweater: You’ve been in a coma since 1987—hopefully.
Nordic-Style Fisherman Sweater: You are vegan and morally opposed to fishing, but this is the state-mandated Scandinavian uniform. You’re cold, but you have free health care.
Cut-Out Sweater: You really want to show off your clavicles and mid-back for some reason. You’re cold and your privatized health care is bankrupting you.
Patagonia Sweater Jacket: You don’t need health care because you’ve got legal weed. Or you’re in finance and can afford to pay out of pocket (despite your sweater having none).
Quarter-Zip Sweater: You are under the age of ten. Aw, nuts—Mom wants another photo of you with Grandma and Grandpa. She took away your iPad because you wouldn’t smile. Life sucks.
Sweater Vest: You fuck.
Argyle Knit Sweater: You’re seventy-five and fuck.
St. John Cardigan-and-Tank Combo: You have been a functioning Sauvignon Blanc alcoholic for over a half century. And you’re seventy-five and fuck.
Mockneck: You’re a wishy-washy coward who can’t commit.
Boyfriend Sweater: The guy you borrowed this from will never say he’s your boyfriend. It will take you way too long to realize that.
Cashmere: You think you’re better than other people.
Loro Piana Cashmere: You are better than other people.
Standard V-Neck: You’ve never had an original thought in your life. Your dating profile says that you’re trying to find “the Jim to your Pam.”
Bell-Sleeve Sweater: You fear neither soup nor candle. Everyone with you at dinner is very nervous, though.
J. Crew Crewneck: You’re a jock who got into Yale. Your dad, a well-connected, wealthy alum, is so proud of you. You listen to Vampire Weekend like it’s an Olympic sport and drink craft beer like it’s a religion.
Shawl: That grisly, unsolved local crime? Your husband did it. He’s the love of your life, father of your children, a paragon of the P.T.A.—but, unfortunately, he did do it.
Mohair: You’re like Cruella de Vil if, instead of puppies, she wanted to skin Grover.
Cape: You can orgasm only while thinking about “Nosferatu.”
Ugly Christmas Sweater: You’re very likely wearing asbestos. That’s why you’re so warm.
Fair Isle: You are ready to survive another harsh winter. You’ve thought deeply about how you would eat a fellow-human, if it came to it.
Lightweight Cotton Button-Up Sweater: You don’t know what a shirt is. ♦
