I put on my jean jacket, stamped IRREGULAR on the inside of the pocket, a purchase from an outlet store in 1996 or so. I have a number of articles of clothes in my closet that I have carried for 10 years, others for 20 plus years. I am familiar with the colors, sensations, shape, look, and the coverage that some provide my skin and body. And I am an old soul who prefers th familiar and durable. I did not have strong distaste towards many things as a kid, but one thing I did despise was fads, especially when it came to fashion. I like to dabble in color subtly, or solid, clean colors; I could not fathom the appeal of Cross Colours jeans that we’re yellow on one thigh and green on the other. Now, when I choose color for my jeans, I can go for brick red or waxy evergreen if it is a solid, consistent color.
Some of the lat20th Centuy relics in my wardrobe are:The 22 year old, tan t-shirt that we printed for African Day in February of my last year of high school.Black ankle socks that I have had more than 10 years. The white/red/black Air Max high tops that I have worn to play basketball twice, but regulatory will wear to get groceries.
Time becomes immaterial in the fabrics of my closet. It is curious to still have some of these things, considering there was an 18 month period when I carried and lived through two trunks of stuff. It was my Jesus year, and I catapulted from one place to another, traversing five states in the four regions of the country. Of the items I los,in that geographic catharsis was the red, pullover, winter coast that endured 3 Minnesota mild winters, and a decade of rising and falling snowstorms and wintertime rainfall in Harlem and Brooklyn.
As I turned 40, I was gifted 20 some items to add to my closet, after I had removed more than 40. My partner called them ill-fitting or heavily worn. I still wore onto a number of things even though they were too small in the chest, the biceps, back, and stopped wearing but did not remove others that no longer fit and were perrennially overlooked. There’s some odd psychology and habits that succumbs to inertia and entropy if I do not sustain the muscle and practice of removing, deleting, and letting go.