What if you can't repair OR replace?

Have you ever owned an article of clothing you were deeply attached to, one that you held onto long after it wore out or stopped fitting properly because you just couldn't stand to get rid of it, and that you've never found a suitable replacement for?

That's happened to me many times, but the best example I can think of is this old cardigan sweater. I've had it for literally decades — in fact, if I recall correctly, I received it as a gift from my late grandmother when I was thirteen. All through high school and college, I wore it pretty much all the time in cold weather, because it was cozy and warm and went with absolutely everything. And I continued to cling to it throughout my adult life, even as it got harder and harder to button, because I just couldn't imagine anything else taking its place. When I wore holes into the elbows, I hired a knitting-empowered friend to repair them so I could keep wearing it longer.

Eventually, it got to the point where it was simply no longer practical to keep wearing it. Only the middle two buttons could physically be fastened anymore, leaving big gaps uncovered at the top and bottom. This clearly wasn't a problem that could be repaired, so I reluctantly set out searching for a replacement...and I couldn't find one. This particular decades-old model, obviously, was no longer available from the manufacturer, and there was simply nothing at all on the market like it. It seemed like a simple enough thing to look for — a warm cardigan in a multicolored pattern that would go with most of my other clothes — yet I searched everywhere, from department stores to thrift shops to Amazon and eBay, without finding anything that really fit the bill.

Over the years, I've tried a couple of other cardigans that seemed like they might make acceptable replacements. In 2012, my sister gave me a really nice one as a Hanukkah present, and I kept it for several years, but I found that I just wasn't pulling it out to wear very often; it was too long on me, and the brown background color didn't go with the rest of my wardrobe. So I finally decided to pass it on in the hopes that it would find some taller, warmer-complexioned person who could truly appreciate it. Another given to me by my mom met the same fate; though it was comfy, the length and bulk weren't flattering. And while my latest pick, a plain grey zip-up from L.L. Bean, went reasonably well with everything, its cotton fabric just wasn't up to the job of keeping me warm in the coldest weather.

Over the past few weeks, I've become kind of obsessed with trying to find a suitable replacement for my beloved cardigan. I've searched endlessly on Google, eBay, and all the online thrift shops like thredUP and Swap.com. I've bookmarked pricey wool cardigans on Etsy and The Irish Store, but never hit the "buy" button because they weren't exactly right (wrong assortment of colors, didn't look like they would fit properly) and I didn't want to waste money on something that might not be any better than what I've tried already. 

But the greatest source of frustration for me is the fact that I already own a sweater that's almost perfect. It's this extra-large men's cardigan that I picked up some years ago at the local thrift shop. It's the right material, a warm blend of acrylic and wool. It's the right color, with a dark grey background and a variety of jewel tones in the pattern that go with most, though not quite all, of my winter clothes. It doesn't have pockets, which I would prefer, but I could deal with that.

The problem is the size. A men's extra large isn't just big on me, it's absurdly big. The length is actually fine, and the width in the body isn't too much of a problem, but the volume in the sleeves just drowns me. I could deal with the excess length by rolling them up, but they're so wide that I can barely stuff them into my coat. And the V in the front is so deep that it leaves a big portion of my chest uncovered, which isn't great for warmth.

If I could only adjust it to fit me, this sweater would be closer to a perfect replacement for my cherished old cardigan than anything I've ever seen in a store. But is that even possible? 

According to this site, there are several ways to take in a too-big cardigan. Shrinking it in the wash is the simplest, but that probably wouldn't work with this one, since it's not 100 percent wool. Pinching off the excess fabric and sewing in new seams might work, but I'm not sure my sewing skills are up to it, and I'm afraid of ruining the only sweater I've ever found that's even close to what I'm looking for. I've thought about taking it to my favorite tailor, but I'm not sure if (a) she's even open during the pandemic,  (b) she would be willing to work with a knitted garment, and (c) she would charge more to alter this cardigan than I'd pay for a fancy new one. 

Then again, given how much difficulty I'm having finding anything else suitable, maybe that's still the best option. I would at least know up front that the material and pattern are suitable, and I could have it tailored to fit me exactly. And making something usable out of an existing garment — while using the services of a local business, to boot — would presumably be more sustainable than buying a new one. So maybe I have nothing to lose by at least checking to see if the tailor is open and willing to do the job. Even an altered version of this big cardigan still wouldn't be as perfect as my old one, but it would be better than anything else I've found in over ten years of searching.