Woke up this morning with the strangest longing for an outfit I used to have years ago. It was probably the best-loved set of clothing I've ever owned-- fitted long-sleeved charcoal gray v-neck with a matching fleecey cropped hoodie. It was remarkable because it was bought for me by my grandparents, and for Christ's sake, whose grandparents ever pick out clothes for them that are not only to their taste but end up being their favorite pieces ever? It was perfect-- fit perfectly, suited my shape perfectly, was a color I loved, exposed just enough midriff to please me but not be inappropriate for high school. And the hoodie was shaped great as well, something to pull on if it was colder and take off if it was warmer. It had a little magenta butterfly on one of those weird tiny zippered change pockets high up on the sleeve, but I didn't care.
I wore this ensemble so often I think my mother grew to hate it. I had an "I wear gray all the time" phase that really irked her, probably started by my love of this outfit. God, I wish I had it now; it made me feel so cool and stylish. I wonder what happened to it. Heh, I wouldn't be surprised if I wore it out, or if my mom threw it away in frustration, or some combination thereof. But I should really keep an eye out for something like that. I don't think I ever loved a set of clothes so much.
Don't know what made me think of that. But it kind of makes me smile.
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