Okay, so I need to tell you about my latest shopping obsession, which is honestly surprising me as much as it might surprise you. I’ve been buying British knitwear. Like, actual proper British wool sweaters and cardigans, not just whatever’s on the clearance rack at Target. I know, I know – it sounds incredibly fancy for someone who usually shops with a toddler hanging off her leg, but hear me out.
It started maybe three months ago when I was scrolling Instagram during Emma’s nap (you know how it is – those precious twenty minutes where you’re not wiping something sticky off someone) and I kept seeing these gorgeous chunky knits. Not the fast fashion ones that fall apart after two washes, but real wool sweaters that looked like they’d last forever. The kind my grandmother might have worn, except somehow modern and not dowdy at all.
The thing that caught my attention wasn’t just how cozy they looked – though let’s be real, living in Minnesota means I’m always cold from October through April – but how these pieces seemed to have actual stories behind them. Like, there’d be descriptions about Scottish mills that have been making wool for centuries, or Yorkshire companies that still use traditional techniques. As someone who’s gotten really tired of buying disposable clothes that barely last a season, this idea of investing in something with actual heritage was… appealing? Which sounds ridiculous coming from someone whose last big fashion purchase was a three-pack of nursing bras from Amazon.
I started researching (because apparently I research sweater purchases now – mom life is wild) and discovered that British knitwear isn’t just one thing. There’s this whole range from affordable pieces you can find at M&S to these incredible Scottish cashmere sweaters that cost more than my grocery budget for a month. But what they all seem to share is this emphasis on quality wool and traditional construction methods that actually make a difference in how the clothes look and feel.
My first purchase was honestly kind of scary. I spent £85 on a merino wool cardigan from a company called Seasalt Cornwall, which felt absolutely extravagant until I put it on and realized it was the softest, most perfectly fitting cardigan I’d ever owned. It’s this beautiful sage green color that goes with everything in my closet, and after wearing it constantly for two months (including through multiple playground visits and snack-related incidents), it still looks brand new. Jackson spilled apple juice down the front last week and it just… came right out. No staining, no pilling, nothing.
That’s when I started to understand what people mean when they talk about “investment pieces.” This isn’t just marketing nonsense – there’s actually a difference between a £20 acrylic sweater that looks sad after three washes and a £80 wool one that seems to get better with age. The math starts making sense when you think about cost per wear, which I never used to do but apparently becoming a stay-at-home mom turns you into someone who calculates these things.
From there I kind of fell down a rabbit hole of British wool brands. There’s Brora, which makes these incredible Scottish cashmere pieces that I absolutely cannot afford but love looking at online. Their sweaters start around £200, which is completely out of my league, but they’re so beautiful – classic styles in gorgeous colors that never seem to go out of fashion. I’ve added about six different pieces to various wish lists and maybe someday when we’re not paying for preschool I’ll actually buy one.
But here’s the thing I’ve learned – you don’t need to spend £200 to get good British wool. M&S, which I always thought of as like the British Target, actually makes some really decent wool sweaters for around £35-50. Their pure wool jumpers (that’s what they call sweaters, which I find ridiculously charming) are surprisingly well-made and come in classic styles that work for everyday mom life. I bought a navy crew neck that’s become my go-to for school pickup because it looks put-together but is comfortable enough to chase kids around in.
John Lewis is another option that sits somewhere in the middle price-wise. They carry their own brand of wool knitwear plus a bunch of other British labels, and I’ve found some really lovely pieces in the £60-90 range. Their customer service is also amazing – I had a question about sizing and they were incredibly helpful, which matters when you’re shopping online and can’t try things on.
The more expensive end is where things get really tempting. Johnstons of Elgin makes cashmere that’s apparently worn by the royal family, and their basic cashmere sweaters start around £150. I spent way too much time on their website looking at these gorgeous cable-knit cardigans and imagining myself as the type of person who owns £300 cashmere. Maybe someday. For now I’m living vicariously through their Instagram, which is probably healthier for our budget anyway.
What I really love about a lot of these British brands is how they talk about their wool sourcing and manufacturing. It’s not just vague claims about quality – they’ll tell you exactly which mill in Scotland made your sweater, or how long the company has been operating. Barbour, famous for their wax jackets, also makes wool sweaters in traditional patterns that have barely changed in decades. There’s something appealing about buying clothes with that kind of history behind them, especially when so much fashion feels disposable and meaningless.
The sustainability angle is huge for me too, even though I’m definitely not perfect about it. These wool pieces are designed to last years, maybe decades if you take care of them properly. My mom still has wool sweaters from the 80s that look great, while I’ve probably thrown away dozens of cheap synthetic ones that pilled or stretched out or just looked terrible after a few months. When you think about the environmental cost of constantly replacing cheap clothes, spending more upfront for something that’ll last makes a lot of sense.
I’ve also discovered that British wool is just… warmer. I know that sounds obvious, but there’s something about good quality wool that regulates temperature better than synthetic materials. My Seasalt cardigan keeps me warm outside but doesn’t make me overheat when I come inside, which is perfect for the constant in-and-out of mom life. Plus wool naturally resists odors, which is honestly a blessing when you’re wearing the same sweater multiple days in a row because laundry is never-ending.
The style factor is what really sold me though. These pieces don’t look like “mom clothes” in that frumpy, giving-up-on-fashion way. They look classic and timeless and like I actually thought about getting dressed, even when I threw them on with jeans and sneakers in about thirty seconds. There’s something about well-made wool that just looks expensive and put-together, even if you’re wearing it to Target.
Shopping for British knitwear has also made me more thoughtful about building a wardrobe instead of just buying random pieces. I’m focusing on classic colors – navy, cream, sage green, soft grey – that all work together and with the jeans and simple tops I live in. Instead of having a closet full of okay-ish sweaters I never reach for, I’m building a smaller collection of pieces I actually love wearing.
The care instructions seemed intimidating at first – hand wash only, lay flat to dry – but it’s honestly not that bad. I wash my wool pieces maybe once every few weeks unless something dramatic happens, and the rest of the time I just air them out between wears. It’s actually kind of nice to have clothes that don’t go in the regular laundry cycle; it makes them feel more special somehow.
I’m still learning about all the different British brands and regions – apparently Shetland wool is different from other Scottish wool, and there are specific techniques for different types of knits that I’m just starting to understand. But even as a beginner, the quality difference is obvious. These aren’t clothes you buy and forget about; they’re pieces you notice and appreciate every time you wear them.
Is British knitwear more expensive than what I used to buy? Absolutely. But when I think about cost per wear and how much better I feel when I’m wearing something well-made and beautiful, it feels worth it. Plus my husband has started commenting on how nice I look, which honestly doesn’t hurt. Apparently there’s a difference between “mom in random old sweater” and “mom in gorgeous wool cardigan,” even if the rest of the outfit is exactly the same.
If you’re thinking about trying some British wool, I’d say start with one good piece – maybe a basic cardigan or pullover in a color you’ll wear constantly. See how you like the feel and quality compared to what you usually buy. For me, it’s been a game-changer in how I think about getting dressed, even for the most ordinary days of suburban mom life.
Claire started Claire Wears to bridge the gap between fashion media and real life. Based in Chicago, she writes with honesty, humor, and a firm “no” to $300 “affordable” shoes. Expect practical advice, strong opinions, and the occasional rant about ridiculous trends.
