Thursday, February 20, 2014

Love Story

I have a bad habit of falling in love with my clothes. I get a crush on a particular item and I wear it until it dies. I still remember with great fondness a pair of snug fitting, brushed denim jeans I had when I was seventeen. I wore those to work at Jewel Foods, to school, and every opportunity in between. I felt elated when they would come out of the dryer, and loved that dryer warmth as I quickly pulled them on. I can buy ten pairs of shorts, dozens of socks, and shirts, but if it doesn't feel right it will languish in my dresser drawer. My love for a particular shirt is why I have so many photos of me wearing that rainbow, ribbed shirt. I loved it. This sickness even encompasses my choice of socks. I have one pair of socks that I save until the right day, when I feel I'll need maximum comfort. I'm not sure why I like that pair best, I have two dozen other pair exactly like it. Also in my drawer right now, I have at least seven pair of shorts. Out of those seven I wear but three, and of those three, two are simply stand-ins until my favorite comes out of the laundry. I am wearing that pair right now as I write this. Unfortunately this, my favorite pair of shorts, is not long for this world. A few days ago while pulling them on I thought I heard a rip. Not a loud rending of fabric, but a barely audible rip. It wasn't until I put my favorite pair of shorts on this morning that I realized I had blown the ass out. I am very sad that I will now have to go on a shopping excursion to find another pair that I can fall in love with. Especially since I still have two pair in my drawer that I have not worn since I walked out of Marshall's fitting room months ago. Oh well, at least I know Mark will be happy. We're going shopping!


  1. Well maybe this is genetic? I'm the same way. I should take a picture of my favorite jeans. I've had them for 15 years. The inside is a patchwork. Every time I get a new rip I bring them to the cleaners for repair. They're not even blue anymore!

  2. I'm wearing the same sweater until winter ends. Also, I have special underwear I wear when I'm in a good mood--they have patterns and no holes.

  3. Oh Hostess, no holes is so important. You certainly don't want to pop through one of those holes when scratching an itch. Patterns are great for camouflaging skid marks too. That's why I go for black underwear.