Men's Shirts
It is said that of all our senses, our sense of smell is most closely connected to our emotional center. A man's shirt is an excellent conduit for the essence of the person who wore it: not only the smell, but the shape, the worn and faded spots, the memories I have of seeing them in it. For these reasons, I love it when men give me their shirts. As I regularly recycle my wardrobe in the spring and fall, these shirts have a permanent spot in my bottom dresser drawer. I'd never consider getting rid of them.
My favorite shirts were given to me straight off the wearer's back, still warm and musky. I deliberately leave them unwashed for as long as possible. Not a single of these shirts fits me properly, so I wear them to bed or the gym or while lounging about in my apartment. I don't know that any shirt I've received was significant to the wearer before they gifted it to me, but I can't wear them without feeling the happy memories I have associated with the gifter. The last shirt I received was from a guy in China; I'd asked him several weeks prior while going through his closet together if I could have one of his shirts to remember him by. The day we parted, he gave me a shirt he'd had since the 10th grade, worn around the collar, with a bleach spot and small cigarette ash burn holes. It's a fashionable brand, his favorite color, and smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and aftershave; all that was missing was the smell of whiskey for the shirt to perfectly remind me of our time together. My other favorite shirt was given to me by a guy I knew before I went to China, a work shirt. It's big and faded and comfy and reminds me how different our lives are, which was very appealing to me. It's my permanent gym and running shirt. I feel a little stronger when I wear it.
Surely I've received gifts other than mix tapes and t-shirts from the men I've known, but these two items are the only things I still have, or remember receiving. I'm not the kind of girl anyone should waste diamond-money on. I could not care less about the gifting of baubles and expensive things. Mix tapes and t-shirts: these things have meaning. These are the things that remind me who you are, and why I liked you.
Next up: perfect packing
My favorite shirts were given to me straight off the wearer's back, still warm and musky. I deliberately leave them unwashed for as long as possible. Not a single of these shirts fits me properly, so I wear them to bed or the gym or while lounging about in my apartment. I don't know that any shirt I've received was significant to the wearer before they gifted it to me, but I can't wear them without feeling the happy memories I have associated with the gifter. The last shirt I received was from a guy in China; I'd asked him several weeks prior while going through his closet together if I could have one of his shirts to remember him by. The day we parted, he gave me a shirt he'd had since the 10th grade, worn around the collar, with a bleach spot and small cigarette ash burn holes. It's a fashionable brand, his favorite color, and smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and aftershave; all that was missing was the smell of whiskey for the shirt to perfectly remind me of our time together. My other favorite shirt was given to me by a guy I knew before I went to China, a work shirt. It's big and faded and comfy and reminds me how different our lives are, which was very appealing to me. It's my permanent gym and running shirt. I feel a little stronger when I wear it.
Surely I've received gifts other than mix tapes and t-shirts from the men I've known, but these two items are the only things I still have, or remember receiving. I'm not the kind of girl anyone should waste diamond-money on. I could not care less about the gifting of baubles and expensive things. Mix tapes and t-shirts: these things have meaning. These are the things that remind me who you are, and why I liked you.
Next up: perfect packing
Comments
After my Brother died, I did keep a few of his shirts and I wore them often.
You done good, girl :-D