The first long sleeve top I owned as an adult was a thin ribbed thing that seemed fine in the shop and then pilled under the arms within a fortnight, so badly it looked like it had grown fur. What it taught me is that thin and cheap almost always means it won't survive contact with a coat, a bag strap or a washing machine on anything but a cold cycle, and you find that out about three wears in, not one.
A good one tells you what it's made of before you even check the label, because it has a bit of weight to it and doesn't cling to everything underneath. Run your hand down the sleeve and you want some density there, not see through fabric that goes sheer the second you stretch an arm up to reach a shelf. The seams matter more than people admit, especially at the shoulder and underarm, because a top that's cut badly there will ride up all day no matter how many times you tug it down, and you'll be fiddling with it on a train instead of thinking about anything else. Cuffs are the other giveaway. A proper rib that holds its shape through a few washes is doing something right, and a cuff that's gone slack and wavy by week three was never going to last the season. Finish wise, I check the hem for a proper turn rather than a single row of stitching that unravels the first time it catches on a zip.
Where this falls apart as a choice is heat. A long sleeve top is a brilliant cold morning piece and a genuinely poor hot afternoon one, and I've sat through enough overheated meetings with my sleeves shoved up to my elbows to know that no amount of good fabric fixes a bad decision about the weather. It's also not the top for anything that needs structure, a blazer worn open over nothing underneath, for instance, looks unfinished rather than relaxed. Layer it under something and it earns its place through fine autumn to early spring, on its own in summer it just fights the temperature and loses.
I'd also leave it alone with anything that has its own statement sleeve, a puff shoulder or a big cuff detail, because two sleeves trying to be the main event on one arm just looks confused rather than interesting. Same with very fitted knitwear over the top, you end up with bulk in exactly the wrong place.
Before I buy one now I ask myself a simple thing in the changing room: if I stretch both arms above my head right now, does the hem stay where I put it, or do I end up flashing half my stomach to the mirror and anyone walking past?