Quince cashmere: Sweet steal or bitter disappointment?

Quince burst on the scene in 2018 like the actual fruit, with a heady and sweet aroma. The brand promise was the lure of luxury-quality basics without the overpriced tag.  This post concerns their cashmere, the flagship item that lures many to its site.

Quince's marketing mantra is, "Be smart! Don't waste money for the fancy boutique and the huge mark-up. Get a version of the thing you covet from us." I watched friends in the US, UK and Canada snap up those $US 55 cashmeres (the price has since increased) and feel, at least initially, snug and smug.

When two years ago, an Eric Bompard cashmere v-neck cost over $400,  I circled Quince, and looked for reviews about durability after months of wear, not just the happy unboxing.  By the next year, owners noted serious pilling, thinning fabric, holes. (These comments do not appear on the site.) 

Several friends bit. Lou said, "Well, for the price, I can have this in three colours!" Rachel gave two pieces to her sister and returned to her heritage brand, Pringle. This is her new cardigan; the price is $CAN 690 but her nephew will bring it from England when he visits her in November, saving on duties.

Photo: Pringle

That is a mighty dent in her clothing kitty; no wonder women seeking light warmth at under three figures head elsewhere. Quince was created specifically to fan and then fill this desire. As marketing consultant Jeffrey Slater observes, it begins with creating a mindset:

"Quince recognized that luxury had become bloated and confusing. Consumers were tired of paying for retail overhead, celebrity endorsements, and theatrics. They wanted quality, not performance. They wanted transparency they could understand... And they were increasingly proud to have found a more innovative alternative.

Quince tapped into a cultural shift. Value is the new status. Frugality signals intelligence. Being label-loyal signals gullibility.

A seventy-five dollar Mongolian cashmere sweater from Quince can feel “old money” while still being a savvy financial choice. That is the reframing. Luxury is redefined not by brand name but by sensory experience and price integrity." (There's more to it; Slater's post here describes the competitive advantage of their supply chain and logistics.)

The Quince customer feels lucky, like a woman who finds a designer coat in a church jumble sale. But like the coat that turns out to have wonky seams (probably why it was donated),  sometimes imperfection is part of the package. There's a small industry of Quince critics out there; this New York Times Wirecutter article (may be paywalled) reviews some of their other goods.

Should you pluck a Quince? 

I have not, due to the US's trade war against Canada, ordered a sweater to assess the quality, but independent customer feedback is less positive than the nearly perfect 5-star feedback Quince posts. Many reviews pit Quince's crewneck against Uniqlo's, and if that's the niche, I'm not eager.

Quince claims their quality can compete with brands like Vince and Maison Cashmere, because they  "have relationships with the same mills used by luxury labels."  True, they contract with those mills—but do not use the same yarns. You'll get lighter-weight yarn and heavy washing post-knitting to fluff up those finer stands, which ultimately reduces durability. 

The decision comes down to two key expectations:

1. Value: Does the piece deliver good wear for the price?

Quince is not "affordable luxury"; it's affordable average. The high-end houses use long-staple yarn and garments are finished precisely. The colour range will be wider, and beyond neutrals. Product-testing sites like Wirecutter have adjusted their rating of Quince cashmere from year to year and Redditors cite quality fluctuations among styles. As far as ethics go, see Good on You's rating from 2025 here.

2. Design: Does it look and feel good?

Quince's line is minimalist in style and colour range; they do not offer more pungent colours or patterns, such as Fair Isles, or more complicated knitting like cables or collars.  The first time I checked out the styles, I thought they were dull, but now I see their utility as a start or maybe as a replacement. Quince's watchword is "timeless"; they track their own and competitor's market data to make what sells.

The colours, except for a few reds, lack the vivacity and complexity of, for example, Brora, whose cashmere is milled in Scotland (Johnstons of Elgin was mentioned to me when I visited Elgin.). This Mongolian Cashmere crew in forest floor green is about as adventurous as it gets. Price, $CAN 75.

Photo: Quince

In Quinces' orchard, you won't find anything like Eric Bompard's "Lily" four-ply cashmere v-neck in vintage ivory and navy; that seam detail on the sleeve just thrills! Price, €350 (around $CAN 550). 

Photo: Eric Bompard

The cyclamen colour has millet seams.. and go see the rest!

Detail, Eric Bompard "Lily" sweater

I do have a grip here. The EB four-ply is the cost of seven Quince crews. But which will be worn with pleasure, cherished, even handed down? There are sales at government-mandated times; the winter one  begins January 13, 2027. 

Before biting into a Quince, I'd check out heritage brands on sale or secondhand sites like .nd  (secondcashmere.com) and Nearly New Cashmere.

Quince at the core

The product is shipped either from the US or abroad. You are, as they insist, buying from the source—but you are also buying a copy; so far, Quince names their competitors for each design and provides price comparisons, but have so far won copyright-infringement lawsuits filed by companies like UGG. 

Only you can asses whether Quince is your flavour; I think you can do better, but some friends gently tell me I no longer  need a sweater to last twenty years. I remind them that my stylish Aunt Magdalen lived to age 102, my mother to 99—and continue to collect the good stuff.