|The ol' shirt in action circa May 2006|
Now that centimeter wide hole exposes my entire elbow and is surrounded by three other dime-size holes. There's grey paint on the sleeves and I have no idea how it got there. It's faded and slightly shrunken from 6 years of washing and drying it on at least a monthly basis.
That month-long trip to the UK changed me. I can't really put my finger on how it changed me or exactly when it happened, but I know that I was different when I got off that plane in Greensboro at the end of the trip. And more than any other object I had with me, I associate my bright orange shirt with that trip. Likewise, I've continued to change since that trip and so has this raggedy shirt. I didn't have a blankie or a favorite doll or stuffed animal as a child, but I feel like this shirt is my version of a much loved blanket. One day I'll have to retire it. And maybe some day I'll make something out of it. But today I'm going to wear it while sitting criss-cross-applesauce on my bed writing about it, instead of going to bed like I should.
What's your favorite piece of clothing? Is it nice and fasionable or comfy and cozy (and maybe riddle with holes?) like mine?