Wittingly I added, “Perhaps that’s because I’m wearing your socks…and your pants. AND your shirt. Wait! Are any of the clothes I’m wearing mine? Yes!” With pride, “MY underwear and bra.”
Somewhere soon after moving in with him, I slowly started to take over his wardrobe–not the way other women do by dictating what he should wear. I began to actually acquire his clothing. Now, that’s practically all I wear. He told my aunt that if it weren’t for him I would be shirtless. He wasn’t joking.
I’m not entirely restricted to Brian’s used apparel. Five years ago, my sister had given me a blue wind-breaker that she had kidnapped from some random person. When the zipper passed away last September, she was kind enough to replace it with her old white one. The age of this is unknown, but I’ll bet it will protecting me from the elements in 2020.
I do possess clothing that have only known me as their owner. My undergarments and other miscellaneous items…which I wear WAY past their expiration dates.
On a weekend NYC art trip, I was mildly terror-stricken by my outerwear. There I was walking the fashion capitol of the world in this thing. Brian said that my canvas coat looked “lived-in”…like literally lived-in. I looked homeless. It was once a beautiful plum color with a brown furry collar. On that day, the canvas resembled the elephant man’s head covering. I thought this, added with the bleach and paint splatters, gave it charm. Apparently, I was the only one.
Brian highly suggested that I give it to someone who may actually be homeless when we got home. That was over a month ago. Thankfully, I hadn’t dropped off the donation bag and am able t0 present you with all its beauty.
Why am I this way?
Laziness. Shopping requires calories expended and decision making. If you sit around long enough, people will just give you clothing. Try it. It works.
Frugality. I find myself in Goodwill gazing down at a $1.99 tag and thinking, “That’s kind of expensive. Do I really need a pair of jeans?”
Concern for the earth’s future. Less waste. Changing the world one crusty sweater at a time.