So my mom calls me last Tuesday – which, let me just say, Tuesday calls are never good news in my family. Sunday calls are the scheduled check-ins, Wednesday calls mean someone’s in the hospital, but Tuesday? Tuesday calls are reserved for fashion emergencies and really good gossip. “Madison,” she says, and I can already hear that tone that means she’s discovered something she thinks is revolutionary, “have you seen this cardigan at Marks & Spencer that everyone’s talking about?”
I’m sitting in my tiny Portland apartment, staring at a pile of freelance invoices I should probably send, and honestly my first thought was “oh god, what now.” My mom’s fashion discoveries usually involve elastic waistbands or cardigans with appliqué cats, you know? Not exactly aligned with my whole trying-to-look-like-a-functioning-creative-professional aesthetic. But then she starts going on about waiting lists and sold-out websites and how her neighbor drove to three different stores looking for one, and I’m like… wait, what?
Here’s the thing about being someone who writes about budget fashion – you develop this weird radar for when something’s actually happening versus when brands are just trying to make something happen. And over the next week, I kept hearing about this cardigan. My coworker Jenny mentioned it. A girl in line at Powell’s was literally on the phone trying to track one down. Three different fashion accounts I follow posted about it, which is significant because I’m pretty selective about who I follow – no time for influencers shilling random stuff.
The cardigan is from M&S, which we don’t even have here, but apparently you can order online. It’s called the “Textured Knit Button Through Cardigan” officially, but everyone just calls it “the cardigan” like there’s only one cardigan that exists in the world now. £35, which is like $45 with shipping – so basically what I’d spend on a decent cardigan at Target, except this one’s causing actual stampedes.
I’ll admit, I was skeptical. I mean, I’ve fallen for hyped pieces before – remember when everyone said those Everlane jeans were life-changing? Yeah, they gave me a weird gap at the waist and I donated them six months later. But the more I researched this thing, the more intrigued I got. Because here’s what’s weird: there’s nothing special about it. At all.
It’s not some revolutionary cut or fabric technology. There’s no celebrity collaboration or limited edition angle. It doesn’t even come in particularly exciting colors – we’re talking navy, black, camel, cream, sage green, and dusty pink. Basic cardigan colors that your mom would approve of. Which, given that my mom literally called me about it, tracks perfectly.
But I kept seeing it everywhere online, and the styling looked… actually good? Like, women were wearing it with slip dresses and making it look expensive, or throwing it over band tees and somehow making it look cool. The versatility seemed genuinely impressive, not just influencer-speak impressive where they style one piece twelve ways and eleven of them look ridiculous.
So obviously I had to order one. For research purposes, you understand. Definitely not because I was developing FOMO about a middle-of-the-road cardigan from a British store I’d literally never shopped at before.
Getting it was harder than expected – apparently they really were selling out constantly. I had to sign up for restock notifications like I was trying to buy concert tickets or something. When the email finally came that navy was back in stock in my size, I literally dropped what I was doing and ordered it immediately. Which felt insane, but also… everyone else was doing it, so clearly I wasn’t the only one losing my mind over knitwear.
When it arrived (pretty fast shipping, honestly), I opened the package expecting to either love it or be completely underwhelmed. Instead, I had this weird middle reaction of “oh, this is actually really nice.” Not groundbreaking nice, not change-your-life nice, just… solidly, undeniably nice.
The quality is better than I expected for the price point. The knit has this subtle texture that looks more expensive than it is, and those tortoiseshell buttons everyone keeps mentioning? They’re actually substantial and well-attached, not like those plastic ones that fall off after three wears. The fit is slightly boxy but not shapeless – kind of that perfect oversized-but-still-flattering thing that’s so hard to get right.
I tried it on with jeans first because that’s my default outfit, and it looked… fine. Good, even. Professional enough for client meetings but casual enough for coffee shops. Then I tried it with this vintage slip dress I never wear because it feels too fancy for my actual life, and suddenly I looked like someone who has their shit together. Like someone who might own matching underwear and remember to water plants.
That’s when it clicked. This cardigan is like the fashion equivalent of that friend everyone loves – not the most exciting person in the room, but reliable, easy to be around, makes everyone else look better just by association. It’s not trying to make a statement, which somehow makes it incredibly versatile.
I’ve been wearing it constantly for three weeks now, and I’m starting to understand the hype. Not because it’s revolutionary, but because it just works. I’ve worn it to work meetings, on dates, to the grocery store, over workout clothes post-gym. It works with my vintage Levi’s, with thrifted silk scarves, with those Target dresses I bought during my last retail therapy session. It’s like having a really good foundation shade – boring on its own, but makes everything else look better.
The styling possibilities are genuinely endless in a way that doesn’t feel forced. I’ve seen people wearing it buttoned up as a top with high-waisted trousers, thrown over summer dresses as the weather transitions, layered under blazers for extra texture. My friend Sarah, who has completely different style than me – she’s more minimalist where I’m more eclectic – ordered the cream one after seeing mine and it looks completely different on her but equally good.
What’s funny is how it’s become this weird bonding thing. I was at a coffee shop in the Pearl District last week and noticed another woman wearing the sage green version. We made eye contact, both glanced at each other’s cardigans, and just started laughing. “The M&S one?” she asked, and when I nodded we ended up talking for twenty minutes about how we’d both gotten sucked into the hype and were surprised by how much we loved them.
Apparently she’d ordered three colors. Three! And she didn’t even seem embarrassed about it, which made me feel better about the fact that I’d been eyeing the camel one online. “It’s like finding the perfect white t-shirt,” she said, “except it’s a cardigan and suddenly you need it in every color.”
I’ve started noticing them everywhere now that I know what to look for. On the woman ahead of me at Trader Joe’s, paired with wide-leg jeans and sneakers. On a mom at the park, over a midi dress with ankle boots. On someone who looked like she probably works in tech, layered under a blazer with tailored pants. Each time it looked completely natural and appropriate, like it had always been part of their wardrobe.
The resale market for these things is honestly wild. I’ve seen them on Poshmark for double the retail price, which seems insane until you realize how hard they are to get when they’re sold out. There are Facebook groups dedicated to trading different colors and sizes, like some kind of cardigan underground network. Women posting “ISO navy size 10, have cream size 12 for trade” like they’re dealing in rare collectibles.
My mom finally got her hands on the dusty pink one and sent me a photo of her wearing it with white jeans and sandals, looking more put-together than I’ve seen her look in years. “You were right about this one,” she texted, which felt like a weird reversal since she’s the one who told me about it in the first place. “I might need the navy too.”
And that’s the thing – it’s not just fashion people who are obsessed with this cardigan. It’s crossing all the usual style boundaries. My friend’s very practical, non-fashion-interested mom has one. College students are wearing them. I saw a woman who had to be in her seventies rocking the black one with dark jeans and looking effortlessly chic.
From a budget fashion perspective, it hits this sweet spot that’s really hard to find. The price point is accessible without feeling cheap. The quality seems like it’ll last, which matters when you’re trying to build a sustainable wardrobe on limited funds. And the versatility means cost-per-wear is probably going to be excellent, assuming I don’t get bored of it in six months.
But here’s what really sold me: I wore it to a client meeting last week, and the woman I was presenting to – who always looks incredibly polished and probably spends more on one shirt than I spend on clothes in a month – complimented it. “That’s such a great cardigan,” she said. “It looks expensive.” When I told her it was $45 from M&S, she immediately asked for the details.
That’s the holy grail of budget fashion right there – finding pieces that look more expensive than they are, that fit into contexts where you’re surrounded by people wearing actually expensive clothes. This cardigan somehow manages that without trying too hard or having obvious designer details that scream “look at me, I’m fancy.”
I think the reason it’s gone so viral is because it solves a problem a lot of us have without realizing we had it. Finding that perfect layering piece that’s appropriate for multiple situations, that doesn’t wrinkle when you stuff it in a bag, that makes everything else in your wardrobe look a little more intentional. It’s boring enough to not compete with statement pieces but interesting enough to elevate basics.
Plus, and this might be the most important part, it photographs well. Which sounds shallow but is actually crucial in the age of Instagram and Zoom calls. The texture shows up nicely in photos, the proportions are flattering without being trendy enough to look dated in six months, and those buttons catch light in a way that reads as expensive in pictures.
I’m probably going to order the camel one. Maybe the sage green too, depending on my freelance invoice situation this month. Which feels ridiculous – when did I become someone who needs multiple versions of the same cardigan? But also, if I’m going to wear something constantly, having options makes sense. And at $45 each, it’s still cheaper than one sweater from most of the places I usually shop.
My graphic design brain keeps thinking about why this particular piece hit so perfectly. It’s got all the principles of good design – clean lines, good proportions, subtle details that add interest without being distracting. The color palette is classic enough to work with everything but not so boring that it disappears. The fit is contemporary without being trendy. It’s basically everything I try to achieve when putting together outfits, but in one simple piece.
So yeah, I get the hype now. Sometimes the most unexpected fashion hits are the ones that just quietly do their job really, really well. No revolutionary design needed, no celebrity endorsement required. Just a well-made, reasonably priced cardigan that makes everyone who wears it look like they have their life slightly more together than they actually do.
And honestly? In 2024, sometimes that’s exactly what we need.
