Guest Blogger - Dottie
Down the Rabbit Hole About Turtle... Necks.
It started innocently. I was doing laundry, which, for the record, I do on a schedule best described as “eventually” or whenever I run out of the good undies, when I pulled out a turtleneck and held it up under the overhead light and thought: Is this doing me any favors?
Three hours later, I had laid every turtleneck I own across the bed (eleven, which is either a collection or a cry for help, I haven’t decided.) I was wearing reading glasses I don’t need for distance, and things had gotten genuinely weird. For reference, I have since learned that Spiritual Gangster makes a printed turtleneck so fun it would never end up in a pile of shame. It would end up in the favs pile. Just for context.
You put on a turtleneck and you are telling the world something about yourself. The question is: what?
Here is what I know about turtlenecks: they are cozy. They are sophisticated, allegedly. They photograph well. They were worn by Steve Jobs, and whatever you think about Steve Jobs, the man had a vision. They also and I say this with the authority of someone who has now spent an entire Sunday afternoon staring at eleven of them… they are a commitment. (I will say that Nordstrom’s turtleneck situation is genuinely excellent if you need to replace the ones that didn’t make the cut.)
The Classification System I Invented
After much deliberation and one glass of wine, I have organized my turtlenecks into the following categories, which I believe are universally applicable and should be adopted by fashion scientists immediately:
The “I Mean Business” Turtleneck: Black. Fitted. You wear this to a meeting where you need to be taken seriously but also need people to know you have taste. Zero issues here. This one stays.
The “I Went Through Something” Turtleneck: This is the oatmeal-colored, slightly-too-long, somehow always has a small stain near the collar turtleneck. You bought it during a phase. You know which phase. We’re not discussing the phase.
The “I Thought This Was Casual” Turtleneck: The one that says “I just threw this on” while lying directly to everyone’s face. You did not just throw this on. You thought about this. Your ex doesn’t deserve to know you own this. This one from ASOS has exactly that energy. Wear it. Say nothing. Look cool. This one is soooo me.
The “What Was I Thinking” Turtleneck: Patterns. We don’t need to say more. Into the donation bag it goes, with love.
What Does This Have to Do With Anything?
Here’s what I figured out by the end of all of this: I dress the way I feel, and I feel the way I look, and that loop is either a magic trick or a trap depending on the day. On the days I feel like myself… fully, completely, no apologie… I reach for the things that look like me. And the things that look like me have a sense of humor about themselves.
Which is why, for the record, my absolute favorite thing that exists right now is something that does not take itself too seriously. Something that gets it. Which is exactly what Tara Boone has going on over at the Boonie’s Besties shop … art that is funny because it is true, on things you’ll actually use, for women who have absolutely had this exact Sunday-laundry crisis before.
If you recognize yourself in any of these turtleneck categories, and you do, be honest, there’s probably a Bestie who gets you. Go meet them. Or better yet, get yourself immortalized. That’s a thing now. A Custom Bestie drawn just for you, specific turtleneck wardrobe malfunction and all.
The oatmeal one is still on the bed. I’ll deal with it next laundry day. In approximately four months.
Okay, But Why Are They Even Called Turtlenecks
So as I was going DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE on the TURTLE NECK Sitch… I need to address this because it came up while I was doing all of this and I could not let it go. At some point during the great turtleneck situation of Sunday afternoon I stopped and thought: why do we call these turtlenecks? What does a turtle have to do with any of this? I had to know. I Googled it. This is not what I planned to be doing with my Sunday but here we are.
The answer… and I am not making this up, is that it is called a turtleneck because the collar mimics a turtle sticking its head out of its shell. That’s it. That’s the whole thing. You are, every time you put one on, doing your best turtle impression. I have been doing a turtle impression for decades and nobody told me.
It gets better. Before it was called a turtleneck it was called a polo neck — because polo players wore them in 1860. Before THAT, medieval knights wore them under their chainmail to stop the metal from chafing their necks. So the full history of this garment goes: knight armor protection → polo sport uniform → Steve Jobs’s entire personality → my Sunday afternoon crisis. That is quite a journey for one piece of clothing.
I also learned that Gloria Steinem wore turtlenecks as a feminist statement, that Audrey Hepburn basically made them iconic, and that Marilyn Monroe wore one in her backyard in 1953 looking absolutely devastating. So really, when you pull on a turtleneck you are joining a very long line of women who knew exactly what they were doing. Even if, like me, you are currently doing it while holding reading glasses you don’t need and reconsidering all of your life choices.
You’re welcome for the history lesson. I did not plan to provide one. This is what happens when you start doing laundry on a schedule best described as “eventually.”
Find your Bestie. She’s already wearing the right one.
Xo, Dottie