Saturday, December 29, 2007

Rescued tresures.

Every once in a while I pull on this Statue of Liberty centennial shirt from 1986. It's color is faded and its cotton has thinned in a way I don't think today's shirts can even wear out. I personally have been wearing this shirt since about 5 years old. But hell, I wasn't even alive in the year 1986. It is believed that this shirt originally belonged to my cousin Jeff when he was about 6. This shirt in no way really fits my grown body. It hugs my armpits and doesn't reach past my belly button. But every time I throw it on over a beater and pair it with some jeans I have this wonderful nostalgic feeling. Not only does this one shirt pull me back to childhood in its own special way but it connects me with the four other people I know have worn this shirt before me. I am the last child in the family. I am the baby. I am where the hand-me-down's stopped.

Yet not all the hand-me-downs stayed in my closet. There are boxes of childhood threads in the basement at my grandparent's. Many of these clothes were worn by myself, my two sisters and my three cousins. Some of these clothes were only mine.

Christmas day has always been when my family gets together and has our Hanukkah celebration. Really just a lime for us to all get together and eat latkas and brisket. So here i was with all my family including my two sisters and three cousins with whom i shared my childhood wardrobe. I wondered away from the social scene and down to the musty basement on a search for my moms old ice skates to bring back to Chicago with me.

I didn't find any skates but when I saw the plastic boxes filled with the colorful gems of childhood I couldn't help but go in for a dig. As I sifted through the little pieces, the baby onesies, adorable dresses, and even a hooded sweater that had my name knitted all over it, I found a few things that stuck out. These select items didn't look so small they struck me as wearable. I tried these three buried treasures on. Not only did they bring about that same nostalgia but they seemed as if they would really have a place in my current wardrobe. I closed up the boxes taking these items with me, a black and white printed skirt with a hot pink elastic waist band, a colorful printed kimono, and a black plether limited too jacket.

I ran upstairs, still wearing the skirt over my jeans. Upstairs my cousin and my aunt were sitting at the kitchen table looking at pictures. They saw my skirt and minutes later called me over to show me a picture in which my older sister at about age 4 was wearing the very same skirt that was right there on my 18 year old body. I guess if the skirt meant for a 4 year old fits, wear it.

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