Real stories · The cardigan with the little buttons

Our house has weather — this is the cardigan that deals with it

One cardigan, on and off a dozen times a day, pretty enough that I never think twice — that's what this is. I'm 67, and our house, like most of its generation, has weather. The kitchen is warm when the oven's on and Baltic when it isn't, the hallway is a wind tunnel with carpet, and the living room depends entirely on whether Malcolm has 'seen to' the fire. Dressing for all of it at once is impossible; you dress in layers and negotiate.

What I wanted was the layer that does the negotiating for me.

Then I found the Verenith from a British label called York Boutique — a soft knit cardigan in a lovely deep red with a row of small mixed buttons down the front, each one a little different, like something inherited rather than bought.

It earns its place by being light. The knit is a soft breathable blend — warm enough for the cold end of the house, never stuffy in the warm end — which is why it simply stays on as I move from room to room, buttoned in the hallway, open in the kitchen. And those little buttons quietly turn a practical layer into the thing people comment on: Pauline has now inspected them twice.

Light enough to keep on, warm enough to matter, and buttons pretty enough to be inspected — the layer that follows me round the house.

I'll be honest: £44.95 made me pause for a cardigan. Then I worked out it would be on my shoulders more hours a day than anything else I own — half the usual £90 — and I'd already checked I could send it back if it didn't suit: you can, within a fortnight, and the delivery's free.

Three weeks in, it has been worn every single day, been admired at one coffee morning, and been borrowed once by my sister Joan, who gave it back reluctantly. It comes in one easy relaxed fit that drapes rather than grips.

If your house also has weather, do have a look. The Verenith is rated 4.6 out of 5 by more than 310 women and comes in red, beige, brown, dark brown, green and black — and at half price, the red has a habit of going first.