The SLO commented on my last post, based one of the pictures there, that my taste in clothing clearly hasn't changed since I was a kid. Now, that statement isn't entirely true--I'm slightly less likely to go out in bike shorts and an oversized T-shirt--but it's certainly more true than even the SLO could guess. I still love hand-me-downs. (The shirt I'm wearing right now used to belong to my cousin.) I still love bright colors. (It's neon green.) And I guess I have to admit to leggings. Sometimes. Rarely. (Hey, is it my fault they're back in style? At least they're not stirrup pants.) And that's just the start of it: I have the same short haircut as when I was four, the same squinting facial expression, and the same tendency to forget to cross my legs when wearing a skirt.
Look how cute Klement is!More than all that, though, I don't just have the same taste in clothes--I have the same clothes. My favorite pair of pants date from a trip to California my freshman year of college. The skirt I wear for running was a Christmas present my freshman year of high school. The pajamas I wear in the summer are my seventh grade gym shorts and my fourth grade field day T-shirt. And, to top it all off, my favorite T-shirt, which I still wear regularly, was a gift from my aunt and uncle when I was eight. Yes, that's right, eight: this shirt and I have been together for fifteen years, with only one short hiatus of a few months when my mom tried to take it away from me and give it to Klement.
(My mom is always trying to kill my fashion buzz. First there were the turquoise shorts with the sunflowers on them, which I had to sneak out of the Goodwill pile at least once a month, then there all the days in high school she sent me back to change into different colors. Pink and orange totally match, Mom.)
This shirt and I won't have another fifteen years together, it's clear: it's fraying at the bottom edge, and developing holes around the collar. Any other person would have given it up long ago, but I'm attached now; how could I let go of an old friend? I get this way about all my clothes, of course--a certain pair of jeans springs to mind, a pair I threatened to wear until they "literally fell off my body," and then did, in fact, wear until they grew substantial holes in the hips, knees, and back pockets, and then grew holes through the patches I sewed on--but it's even more so for my Indonesia shirt. This one I will wear until it literally falls off my body. Let's just hope I'm wearing something underneath it at the time.
Easter 1992, in Utah, with Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Marie, The Duke, and cousins Guber and Minnie.
With Guber again, circa 2001/2002. I love that I have two pictures of me and Guber and the Indonesia T-Shirt. I also love that I have pictures of Guber's car at the time, in which we were known to cruise Boise's Main Street listening to Frank Sinatra. It was a very good year.
With Jen at our high school graduation party, 2002
With Margaret in LA, 2003
Asian photoboothing it up in Indonesian the Beautiful with the SLO, 2007
