Luo Zhiyong also didn't have many clothes. From childhood till adulthood, his wardrobe barely filled half a cabinet, and even those weren't of good quality. It's likely that the better ones had been handed down to Luo Zhiming.
That is just how things were back then; you buy a new piece of clothing, the eldest wears it first, then the second eldest, and so on. Once it's worn out, you patch it up and keep wearing it. As long as it's not falling apart, the garment isn't finished.
Fang Pingying tidied up for a while, and in the end, she only managed to gather a few woolen sweaters that Luo Zhiyong wore when he was seventeen or eighteen.
Seeing that the colours were still decent, Fang Pingying thought of unravelling the wool and knitting a new piece by adding some extra yarn.
However, the wool seemed fine to the eye, but when she started unravelling it, the yarn was weak; it would snap with a pull. Even if she forced a new garment out of it, it probably wouldn't be warm.
