Six years ago, I bought a pair of blue cotton shorts (sort of a light weight sweatpant material). I purchased them for my job as an ice cream scooper (5 summers of the amazing right arm bicep!!!); however, they were so comfortable-airy-breezy-soft, that I couldn't let them die the same death (the sour milk stench) that all of my other work clothes suffered...so I made them my gym shorts.
There was just something about them. I put them on and immediately felt energized, ready to get a good sweat on, eager to work out. These shorts were a priority, they were always on the top of the 'to do' laundry pile, and were always still warm out of the dryer...I don;t think they ever saw the inside of my drawer. They came with me to college and on my vacations. I would wear them to the beach over my bathing suit, and I even wore them repainting one of the rooms in B*T* fraternity house (don't ask, lets just say the day of painting was well worth it). Despite the face that the painting gig did left a spot of white paint on the right butt, these shorts continued to be worn in public. Although the winter months are not usually prime shorts season (oh the pasty white goodness that is my fair Irish legs), I quickly remedied the issue by wearing sweat pants over the shorts when traveling outside.
So you are probably thinking a few things: 1) these shorts must be awfully smelly.
Flash forward to this past Thursday. I was at the gym, just finishing up my cardio, when my IPOD fell off the machine. Annoyed at having to slow down and get it, I quickly squeezed in-between the two machines, bent over to pick it up, and heard, "sqqquuuuzzzzzzzzzzzzzzziiiiiiiiiiiiiiipppppp" and felt something tugging at my waist.
"Uh-oh....this can't be good", I thought.
Nope it wasn't good. The string on my shorts had gotten caught in the peddle and the dry rotted waist bad of my shorts was now separated from the legs.
Aside from sheer mortification(I think this is a word), from both the rip and the fact that my pink floral FRUIT OF THE LOOM undies were showing (hey, I like my granny panties for working out), I knew that almost 7 years of working out companionship had just come to a screeching halt.
I quickly grabbed my waist, my gym bag, my water bottle, and bolted to the locker room. Not going to lie, along the way I clearly was thinking...."I wonder if I can fix this with the sewing machine?!?!"
Seeing as I was going to work (and had my clothes with me), I showered and put on my lovely scrubs. As I packed my stuff and got ready to leave, my heart ached when I put the ripped shorts in the dirty laundry bag. I know that I should have thrown them out, but there was just something about our relationship that I could not, or would not, let go of that morning.
My day at work was horrendous and hectic so I really didn't think much about the mornings events...yes people, I can recognize that saving lives is more important than smelly, ripped, 7 year old shorts!
That night I did manage to throw them out, but only after pulling out the string and throwing it in a drawer (safe keeping? nostalgia? lunacy? )
I dreamt that night that some homeless person found them while rummaging through the trash (the joys of city living) and was appalled that I would throw away something so valuable. The next morning I woke up, well aware that I needed to get a grip, and got ready for the gym. I pulled out one of my other bazillion pairs of work out shorts and trekked to the gym. I had a great sweat going and realized that it wasn't the shorts that made my workouts so enjoyable. I left, feeling satisfied, and went about my day.
So I'm not really sure that something as insignificant as a pair of cotton shorts deserved a post, but what the heck. I'm sure that everyone can relate to having that one item of clothing that you just cannot let go of!
And so I ask you, my loyal readers, what is your favorite piece of clothing?
Do you think you will be able to part with it some day???