Today’s prompt: Describe a shirt in your closet you never wear.
The prompt today reminded me of an article I read a few days ago about the propensity of people finding skeletons during the remodeling of Oddfellow’s Halls. Carpe Diem and all that, but most mornings I’d rather find the remains of an Oddfellow’s ritual in my closet than my current wardrobe options. I’m really in desperate need of being saved from my worn out fashion by one of those gurus who suddenly appear in your life and do a complete makeover for you. I’d choose Tim Gunn; however I think he’d be appalled at the amount of times I opt for a pair of yoga pants and I’m not heading for the gym.
I don’t have the habit of hanging onto clothes that don’t fit or I have second thoughts about. I donate items a few times a year to the local charity shop. (The trips also give me an excuse to look through said shop for used vinyl records and mason jars for canning!) So finding something that I never wear is hard; however, hardly wear is much easier.
A few years back I went back east to visit my daughter and we spent a few days in New York City. We did the 5th Avenue shopping crawl and we hit a major sale at Anthropolgie, a store I only shop at when they have major sales. For some reason, even though I am far from being the hippie, earth mother type–I purchased a peasant blouse. At the time, it seemed like a great summer option and I liked the blue and white colors.
I don’t know why I didn’t notice it at the time (I blame it on being up the night before WAY past my usual bedtime), but it is really low-cut. And shear. Like hey, I can see all your back tattoos shear. Which meant that I needed to wear a cotton cami under it unless I wanted to “air out the girls” or show the world my body art through a gauzy curtain of cotton. So the poor shirt languishes in my closet until the right temperature hits the Central Coast and I can wear the blouse without sweating profusely or freezing. This probably happens twice a year.
So here’s to you peasant blouse. You’re lovely and I will keep you hanging in my wardrobe between my work shirts and the Penguins jersey. But I will make sure next time I shop at Anthropologie, I take a much better look in that mirror.