Cashmere The jumper that keeps me warm

Marina Rinaldi

If you had something precious in your hands, how would you handle it?

Wouldn’t you be ultra careful with it, seek the right place to keep it, and treat it with kid gloves? Instead, I plaster my beloved cashmeres with jam (curse those flimsy croissants), wear them, wash them and throw them right back on again. And at night, when I finally peel them off, I toss them carelessly onto the bedroom armchair.

Don't ask me why, the fact is that those poor jumpers, cardigans, turtlenecks and the like always come to a bad end. If I were a scientist intent on saving the world with an antidote to violence, stupidity and arrogance, I might be excused. The worst part of the matter is that I’m perfectly aware of how to treat this noblest of fibres properly and ensure it lives happily ever after.

Cashmere isn’t just any fabric

Rule number one: no rolling up my cashmere like I’m going to play football with it. The fibre needs to relax, a bit like when I stretch post-workout, so it's crucial to find a quiet spot to place it, perhaps even on a towel.

Rule number two: brush it gently, ideally with the right tool. Since I’ve been finger-combing my curls for as long as I can remember, I’ve probably saved a small fortune in brushing time, time I can now put toward giving my jumpers some love. No drama, just maintenance, particularly as otherwise those pesky little bobbles that brushing helps prevent are just bound to show.

Rule number three: let it breathe during the night. I like to imagine cashmere, while I sleep, meditating on the adventures of its day or recovering from the stress of the evil handbag rubbing against it.

Rule number four: store it in its own packaging, without cramming it into a crowded wardrobe.

Rule number five: go ahead and toss it in the washing machine on a delicate cycle, no need to stress. Cashmere can handle a little spin in the drum, as long as you lay it flat to dry afterward. Just keep it far away from the clothesline, its sworn enemy.

Rule number six, the most important one for a mess-maker like me: always use a napkin, just like a kid, especially when I’m having breakfast at my favourite pastry shop, where the croissants are bursting with jam!

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Cashmere

It comes from the soft undercoat of a specific breed of goat, the Capra Hircus, found mostly in the chilly mountain regions of Central Asia, like Mongolia, China, India and Iran. And to make things even trickier, each goat only produces about 200 grams of this precious fibre per year, a tiny amount compared to what you get from a sheep. In short, those sweet little Capra Hircus goats share the warmest part of their fleece with me. The least I could do is say thank you every time I take off my jumper, but honestly, even that doesn’t feel like enough. If I want my clothes to last, I need to step up my game. From now on, it’s time for a shift in attitude.

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MEDIA TEXT DESKTOP CRISTINA MANFREDI Marina Rinaldi

Cristina Manfredi: Who is the pen behind the Marina Rinaldi New Fashion Journal?

Originally from Biella and Milanese by choice, she is a fashion, lifestyle and society journalist with a vibrant, upbeat attitude. She worked as a journalist for Milano Finanza Fashion before moving to Vanity Fair, later resigning to focus on personal projects, including writing, tango, running, and spending time with her beloved cats. Today she is a contributor to Vanity Fair, L’Officiel, Marie Claire and the Style Magazine - Corriere della Sera.