“Good lord it’s cold!” I said as I emerged from an 8 year old’s trampolining birthday party last week, “Hasn’t it’s dropped!” I added to further fortify my weather chat. At first I thought it was just the cold air hitting my sweaty post bounce body but no it’s happened. It’s officially winter. Proper chilly, hats-gloves-scarf- seeyourbreath winter.
I loathe the summer with it’s small clothes, sweating and salad. No, I love faux fur and thermals. I love candles and it being dark at 4.30PM. I love pies, slippers and tea. I love staying in, drinking lorry loads of red wine and watching Strictly. I love gloves and wrapping a scarf round so tight it constricts my breath. I love boots and socks and putting a jumper on. The cold doesn’t really bother me apart from one key area. There is one place where it really gets in: my ears.
Whilst I am always toasty from the neck down, my ears shiver on either side of my head. They complain they want to be at home beside a radiator. This is unavailable in the middle of Oxford Street so instead my ears try to push themselves back into my head for warmth. This makes my head cold and results in a sort of dull headache, the sort of thing my little brother used to get when he ate ice cream too fast.
A hat could clearly be the thing here but this brings it’s own problems. Squashed down hat hair is never a good look, also I usually end up taking a hat off and leaving it somewhere. I still mourn the loss of a mustard knitted beanie which was left on a tourist bus in Berlin. Last night I was on my way to record Jules and Sarah the podcast and it was the coldest it’s been for 6 months. I put thermals under my ripped jeans, faux fur up to my neck but my unwashed tied up hair meant my ears were exposed. I thought I would have to brave it with a hat over a ponytail like an odd cone but instead my Sprig Knitwear headband came to the rescue.
Sprig Knitwear was founded by Antonia Sullivan when she made a snood for her friend one Christmas, in her “knitting nook.” Obviously the snood became the talk of the town and everyone wanted one. Antonia says she was inspired by old family photographs of children growing up during 1950s and 60s Britain and says “these photos were mostly in black and white, yet were filled with delightful patterns and personality.” Antonia now runs her small knitwear from the heart of Hampshire. Everything she makes is from 100% pure lambswool which is sourced from Geelong, Australia before being spun and dyed in a Yorkshire. Sprig Knitwear say their ethos “focuses on wrapping our customers in love and bringing brightness on those bleak winter days with colour, softness and warmth.” My ears are entirely thrilled.