Comfort

Clothes. We all have clothes, right? I hope so. Outfits, shoes, pants, jackets, shirts, all that jazz. Do you feel comfortable in your clothes? Are your clothes a reflection of who you are, or are they a reflection of your environment? Do clothes mean anything to you?

For me, I am not too big on buying brand spanking new clothes. Unless it's been a multitude of months since I've shopped at an actual outlet store and am in dire need of a completely fresh fitted, most of my wardrobe comes from thrift boutiques, thrift shops, and any other kind of place that comes to mind when thinking about a typical VCU student's clothing. It's cheap, it's authentic, and there are more stories to tell behind a shirt that you bought from Rumors or Family Thrift than there is behind the Kappa jacket or Nautica long-sleeve from Urban Outfitters. This isn't to say that there's an issue with shopping at places like Urban, hell, if I had the money to blow at Urban every other weekend maybe I would be shopping there. But that's behind the point. Thrifting for cool shit is always an experience. You can fantasize about the story behind the "new" piece of clothing that you got and almost put yourself in that person's shoes. A little weird? Yeah, I'd say so. But it's my kind of weird. 

I bought this one flannel a couple of years ago, from Goodwill I think. It's a green, plaid, jaded piece of cloth that maybe an old farmer might have worn while toiling on the fields with his or her sheepdog and cows. It could have been in the back of some normie's closet, hell if I knew. Wherever this piece of clothing ventured from before me picking it up off the Goodwill gave it a narrative that only the former owner would know. A story that resonates only between the former and the clothing. I just think that it is really interesting that I am, in a slightly ominous vicarious way, coexisting with an object that used to be part of someone else's life as it is part of mine now. I've done so much in this flannel. I've given it to a girlfriend (but then took it back after we broke up, obviously), I've landed some of my best skateboard tricks in it,  I've traversed in multiple cities in it, the list goes on. 

This flannel, as insignificant as it might be to who is reading this blog post (if you're reading this blog post, please bring a bagel to Cabell library, second floor, with cream cheese!***I don't think anybody will get this joke, but that's ok***), has been home to many memories that predate my ownership of it and has allowed me to create a dialogue of my own with it as well. 

Comfort.