Orchid Ridge · Handmade 1970s-80s Wool Kids Cardigan
Wool · handmade raglan knit · plastic buttons · 1970s-80s · 39cm length flat · approx. 3-4 years, kids · excellent condition
Six candy-striped buttons in orange and white march down the front of this orchid-purple cardigan, the kind of small choice a maker makes when the buttons matter as much as the wool.
No label survives to name where or when this one was made, so the dating is a best guess. The plain stockinette body, raglan shaping, and garter ridge bands marking each increase round are typical of home knitting patterns that stayed popular from the 1970s into the 80s, well before novelty yarns and printed knits took over children's cardigans.
The shaping is a top-down raglan, sleeves set in on the diagonal rather than at a seam, with two horizontal garter ridge bands crossing the yoke where the increases happen. The cuffs, hem, and collar all finish plain, letting the striped buttons carry the detail instead. A relaxed, boxy cut with room to grow into.
Material
Wool, plastic buttons.
Care
Hand wash in cool water with a wool-safe detergent, do not wring, and dry flat away from direct heat or sun. Store folded rather than hung, to keep the shoulders from stretching.
More on looking after vintage pieces in our care guide.
Size
Measured flat: 39cm length, 36cm across the bust and 34cm at the waist laid flat, 34cm at the hem. Sleeves run a generous 37cm from neckline to cuff with an 8cm bicep and a 7cm cuff, and the neckline sits 7cm deep at the front. Reads as roughly a 3-4 year size, with plenty of room to grow into.
Our size guide explains how vintage sizing is read here.
Condition
Excellent. The colour is even and bright with no fading, no pilling, no holes, and all six buttons are secure.
Our condition lexicon explains the grades we use.
Before it reaches you
Someone loved this before you did, and I try to honour that properly. Each piece is hand washed, or cleaned in the way that the fabric permits, then steamed until it softens and straightens and feels newly attended to. Wherever a button was missing, it has been replaced with a vintage one from my long-kept collection. Wherever a hem had given way, I fix it by hand. By the time it leaves this room it is genuinely clean, pressed, whole, and looked over one final time before I let myself believe it is ready. Not restored. Not made new. Just returned to a state where it can be loved again, by someone who was not there the first time.
Somebody chose the buttons before they chose anything else, six little orange-and-white stripes marching down the front like they were the whole point of the exercise. The wool came second. It is a small, practical, deeply considered piece of work, the sort of thing made in an evening chair with the television on and love in every row.