Thursday, March 25, 2010

Our Clothes, Our Selves.

I'm sitting on the couch, watching Project Runway, editing files, and getting ready to list my first Etsy store vintage items. I'm looking at certain pieces and feeling quite nostalgic and attached. I know, I know. If I put something in the "sell pile" and went to the trouble to photograph and measure it, I really ought to go through with putting it up for sale. Anxiously I think: What if I wear it again? (Unlikely). What if I lose some weight and fit into it in a few months? (Even more unlikely). What about that day I wore that top with that red skirt? Gosh that was such a good day.

If I really examine why I want to keep an article of clothing, the reason more oft than not boils down to a memory. I attach a huge amount of sentimentality to my clothes. I grew up living in an old victorian brick house, on the top floor of my mother's clothing store. Having two business owners as parents meant that I was constantly with a nanny, but if I ever wanted to see my mom, I could always go downstairs and slip through the back changing room into the shop. I can't count the number of times I accidentally walked in on some lady trying things on... Whoops! Oh wait, I think I just found my gay root!! (Only joking.. Well, not entirely).

I remember being small, smaller than the racks, creeping underneath rows of dresses. I remember the smells and the colors and the feel of the fabrics, and I remember it all with profound fondness. It is no surprise that- in light of my upbringing- I am not only addicted to fashion, but also have a hard time letting go of a certain special t-shirt or a sweatshirt from a memorable night at the lake.

Alas! At 21 and a soon to be college graduate, it is time to purge my closet!


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