good(bye), good(buy): an over-the-top ode to an orange sweatshirt
do you own a piece of clothing that you feel completely attached to?
something you found, and grew to love extremely deeply over time?
is that piece one that seemed to work its way into many an ensemble, in the most perfect of ways?
in the words of susie bubble, was it a cog of your style?
i form strong personal attachments to certain pieces of clothing or other wearables. i know i can’t be the only one!
sometimes those items are found new at retail, or perhaps they have uncovered by scouring the racks and bins of a thrift store or other shop. i spot them, and something about them resonates with me so deeply, so perfectly, it’s almost as if i am somehow fated to have that piece. the piece was, in a sense, waiting there for me to discover it. sometimes the immediate attachment, the need to acquire something makes sense at the time, and other times, the inherent perfection of the item becomes clear over time, as it gains context and meaning in one’s life and one’s closet.
this simple red-orange sweatshirt, of all things, was a wardrobe cog to which i formed a particularly deep attachment:
i found it for a song at a williamsburg, brooklyn A.P.C. sample sale. i fondly remember the day of discovery like it was yesterday: peter and i had to stand outside the building door with large numbers of various and sundry new yorkers, waiting to be filtered into the bustling sale by a sample sale bouncer. the woman in front of me was wearing an HBO baseball cap and talking on her cell phone, and one of the women behind me was a children’s wear designer, waxing poetic about her work with her friends.
it was a relatively warm january day (hello, global warming!), so the outdoor wait wasn’t completely awful. once inside, we were confronted with racks, boxes, and tables of gloriously french ready-to-wear clothing and accessories, all priced to sell. the orange sweatshirt was one of many in a massive pile on a table in the back of the sale.
and she stood out to me, gloriously almost leaping into my grateful arms…
okay. not really. honestly, being a color whore, i was immediately attracted by her bright red-orange hue, and right away, i know i saw her potential to be an integral part of my working wardrobe, because of her simple, sporty fitted shape, understated but modern details (like the slightly ribbed orange fleecy fabric and plastic zipper), and promise of warmth.
and that she did become, a huge part of my wardrobe. i wore that sweatshirt all the damn time…with everything and anything, as evidenced by many a wardrobe_remix photo. when going to school, out to dinner, lazing about the house…always as a layer among layers. it kept me warm without adding bulk, it added another shot of color to already riotous color combinations i felt compelled to create. it became almost a part of me, and was essentially a perfect aesthetic representation of my personal style through it’s shape, color, and style.
but the relationship was not to last!
*wash, wear, wash, wear.*
eventually, my little orange wardrobe workhorse started to get a little pilly, a little faded, a little threadbare. the orange paint on the zipper pull began to chip off, leaving it looking more than a little shabby (a look i don’t love). and then, a fortnight ago, the last straw: some strange, subtile but unremovable brown stains appeared all over her, like a terrible pox that only those perfect clothing pieces have the fate to befall. i had to face the facts: the last days of the orange sweatshirt had come.
*cue me screaming to the heavens, lifting up the sweatshirt, shaking her with grief, willing her to live another day*
i’ll miss her so deeply. if only she could be replaced! if only A.P.C. had a secret stash of these sweatshirts i could buy and then hoard away for years! if only clothes (especially those made in the modern age) weren’t ethereal items prone to entropy! if only i had worn her into the ground, you know? oh, my heart is breaking.
but on second thought, i suppose it tis better to have bought and worn into the ground with extreme love and obsession, than to have hidden such away in the closet and never worn at all.
the end.
May 31 2007 | Posted in fashion musing, it's personal.
May 31 2007 at 2:27 pm
anushkaI hate it when that happens
You could always deconstruct it, then use the pieces to draft out pattern blocks to make a new one out of fabulous fabric.
May 31 2007 at 5:49 pm
SwanDiamondRosei have items like that, definitely. once even a girlfriend of mine tried to get me to hang onto a cowl neck top she kept throwing into the garbage then digging out again! but i knew if i kept it for her, to try and stop her from wearing it without her having to actually throw it out, she would just be driving over to my place all the time to get it. i just give in. i keep the old stuff usually in all its soggy goofy weirdness.
May 31 2007 at 8:51 pm
Ericalol, i know the feeling…just yesterday i tossed out a beloved pair of yellow canvas flats, which i had worn until the sole popped…they seemed to go with everything. i have lots of other nice shoes, so i don’t think i’ll miss those too much. :o)
i also agree that these days, clothing and fashion items in particular are not manufactured to last. it keeps us in constant shopping mode…
May 31 2007 at 10:08 pm
vanessawhat a well-written post. i’ve just discovered your blog and i’m enjoying it. my object of affection was a worn-out pair of gap bootleg jeans. they were a god-send! i found them in a consignment store in vancouver’s kerrisdale neighbourhood. they were just the right length for me and fit my bum just right. the colour was a dark blue with a yellow undertone to it and the jean fabric was a good thinness for me. they were with me for a good 2-3 years until the knees started to wear. (noooooo) i kept wearing those darn jeans and was trying to bring back grunge… well. the jeans had to eventually go. i still think of them sometimes. ha.
June 1 2007 at 8:19 am
Nancyoh yes, i hear you. ever piece of clothing i own has a story, and it is definitely heartbreaking to lose one you’ve become attached to!
June 1 2007 at 11:11 am
Nadia LewisWill you pattern hunt and sew a new one? Or knit a new one? Or is she to go in the Hall of Wonderful Garments in your memory, never to be replaced?
June 1 2007 at 11:19 am
tricianadia and anushka: i suppose i technically could take it apart and re-do it, but frankly, it was the combination of color, fabric, shape, and details that made it special for me, and the chances of being able to recreate the same *exact* sweatshirt from scratch would be almost nil.
it will have to remain in my memory, i think…until another favorite wardrobe item comes along to replace the loss.
June 2 2007 at 1:39 pm
ambikaHysterical, if not completely true. I think I mostly do this with shoes, which get beat up all to quickly with my constant walking around.
June 2 2007 at 6:29 pm
VirginiaAnother lurker chiming in. My favorite is a big fleecy pullover sweatshirt in charcoal gray. It was a Christmas gift from friends years ago. When I got it, it was so soft and warm. Christmas night was bitterly cold. I wore it to bed that night and we bonded. The first few years I wore it all the time it kept me warm and and I was grateful. Now sadly the softness is gone. It is still warm but it is not the same. I think it is time to say goodbye.
June 4 2007 at 3:04 pm
RileyI felt this way the day I had to let my velvet converses go. Sad, sad day.
June 4 2007 at 4:15 pm
KatrinMine was an oversized forest-green cardigan I’d swiped from my dad’s closet. Some of my fondest high school and college memories include that sweater, but somewhere along the way it disappeared - probably unceremoniously dumped when it stopped being so oversized.
After 20-some years of searching for a suitable replacement, I just recently found a thrift-store sweater in the exact same shade of green - an upgrade to wool, even (the original was acrylic). I unraveled it and am currently knitting a new, perfect-fitting cardigan from the recycled yarn.
June 4 2007 at 5:19 pm
frostpatternsWell, I can understand your pain as well … At the moment a big part of my clothes have reached that point in the strange cyclic curve that wardrobes seem to go through … At one point suddenly all your favourite things are falling apart and need to be thrown out …
Well, I guess there’s also lots of positive aspects to this, but still, I really don’t want to part with my favourite T-shirt and layering piece, a black scoop neck by W.&L.T. with a white graphic print of a stylized crowd that I bought about 6 (!) years ago … I don’t know if I can do it …
June 5 2007 at 2:57 pm
5loaves2fishesLove your site. Would dyeing it give it a new lease of life?
June 5 2007 at 4:19 pm
fabulousfrockGOD yes I know what you mean. My turquoise cardigan is on its last legs and I just don’t want to say goodbye. And in the bottom of my closet, I still have stashed a Charlotte Tarantola tee, pale green with embroidered birds on a branch on the front, in the bottom of a hamper in my closet. I loved that shirt SO much but it was poly-cotton and turned pilly too fast. Sigh.