OLD CLOTHES
By Dan Miller
January 16, 2007
For me, letting go of old clothes is never an easy thing.
But, left unchecked, old clothes can become like kudzu in Georgia…. gradually taking over all available closet space, even spreading outside the closets into basements, attics and various nooks and crannies all over the house.
And if clothes are left unattended long enough, that strangest of mysteries can emerge.... the dramatic, inexplicable shrinkage of fabrics.
Whenever I try on old pants, shirts or jackets that I haven't worn in years, I'm utterly amazed.
The degree to which they "fail to fit" defies all scientific logic and explanation.
Sure, I'll admit I've added a few pounds over the years.... but that doesn't explain how the pants actually become shorter.... and the shirt sleeves are now shorter than my arms.... and the cuffs won’t even button over my wrists.
I'm absolutely certain, I've never been tortured on a medieval stretching rack.... MY LEGS HAVE NOT GROWN LONGER!
I started thinking about old clothes the other day when I happened across an old Frankie Laine song titled "Old Shoes" in which he sings about noticing his old shoes, dusty in the closet, and how his thoughts run back to his beloved, and how romantic things were, back when those shoes were new.
It’s true…. old shoes, and old clothes, bring back memories.
(So do old Frankie Laine records.)
Karen and I went on our first date in 1979.
To this day, Karen won't discard the striped shirt, the old navy blue polyester jacket, and the gray polyester pants I was wearing that night.
They still hang in one of our closets.
They serve as sort of a "before and after" reminder of how she (being a fashion designer) subtly enlightened me (an on-going process) about the ill-advised, ill-fitting clothing I was occasionally wearing.
The oldest piece of my apparel that might still exist is a sweater I wore when I co-hosted a teenage dance party on TV in Augusta from 1964 until 1966.
My co-host Doug Harris and I bought matching green zip-up sweaters to wear for personal appearances around town, hoping to look like Freddie And The Dreamers.
We got them for $5 each.
When my oldest daughter Jennifer eventually confiscated that sweater -- sometime around 1980 -- I took great pleasure in reminding her that the old sweater had never been cleaned, and that -- for old time sake -- it should never be washed or dry cleaned.
I haven't inquired about that old sweater in several years.
My daughter may or may not still have it.
Of course, it's also possible that -- by now -- it has disintegrated.
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