Do you have that one pair of jeans that just fit perfectly? How about that special pair of underwear that makes you feel like you could conquer the world? Well for me I have my blue plaid shirt. That's right the blue plaid shirt I am wearing right now. Through the years I have grown both physically and as a person while wearing this very shirt.
It all started with my back to school shopping at the beginning of my seventh grade year. I remember going to Fred Meyer and looking at all of the sale racks. My fingers ran lovingly upon the various fibers picking out the softest plushest materials. As I touched the soft flannel my heart skipped a beat. I pulled the dark shirt from the rack and inspected it thoroughly. It was perfect! I proceeded to buy both it and a shirt just like it, but in red.
After that I proceeded to wear it whenever possible while trying not to look like the kid that only owns one shirt. I wore it so much it eventually became part of me. I would go a week without wearing it and people would ask me if I still had the shirt. Of course the answer was always yes, but I every time I was shocked by the fact that someone had noticed the fact that my blue shirt wasn't present.
Over the years I have worn the blue shirt more times than I can count, but its brother, the redshirt, has almost been forgotten. I sometimes feel bad that I devote so much time and energy to the blue shirt and not the red shirt. The red shirt sits lonely in my closet as my blue shirt and I make memories and share adventures. It's quite sad if you really think about it; but that in and of itself is a lesion all its own.
I suppose I should tell you that, although it is a bit weird, I have an entire Facebook photo album dedicated to my blue shirt. It is titled simply "my favourite blue shirt and our adventures together." You may be wondering how I could create an entire album just to a shirt, and for that fact what adventures do you exactly do with a shirt?
Well let me tell you of a few of our adventures together. One of the best times that I had with my blue shirt was to celebrate my 16th birthday. I fondly remember getting up that morning and instinctively reaching for my friend, and comrade, my blue shirt. I put the shirt on and fallowed my normal ritual of buttoning only the last three buttons and then without thinking rolled the sleeves up twice. With that I was ready to face whatever the world threw at me.
Even in all of the hustle and bustle of my birthday I had my blue shirt to keep me company. I opened gifts. Ate cake. Watched a movie. And had happy birthday sung to me all while sharing it with an external representation of the inner me.
Another time my blue shirt and I went on a National Honor Society trip to Portland, Oregon. The trip was scheduled for April, and seeing as how I am Oregon born and raised I knew to bring plenty of clothing to layer. On that trip my shirt and I saw the Chinese gardens, the Ape caves, much of Vancouver Washington, and of course Paddock mansion. Through think and thin we stuck together. It has been documented that my shirt and I planked over 60 times on that trip. We planked in three cities, and two states. My shirt protected me from sharp rocks, wet cement, and the ever present chill that was in the air.
I went on another Honor society trip the year after that. This time we embarked on a great and grand tour of San Francisco. Once again I packed my blue shirt. My shirt had my back when I almost got seasick on the tour of Alcatraz. The choppy water and smell of fish had nothing on the security I felt while wrapped in the comfort of my blue shirt. Later our group had to walk for miles and miles to get to our next destination. While my feet hurt and my legs were tired my heart was warm from the love that my shirt gave me.
It is times like these, and the memories that were made that make me realize just how important my shirt has been to me. I went from being a spazed out kid that was always bouncing off the walls to a less spazed out adult that is much calmer. I like to think that I owe part of this to my blue shirt.
My shirt represents more than just a piece of clothing to me. It represents all of the good, and all of the bad in my life. Each stain and small tear represents my commitment. I have stood by that shirt just as it stood by me. When the sleeves got just a tad too short for my arms I could have just given it away, or thrown it in the trash, but instead I decided to just role up the sleeves and stick by the commitment I made.
The back of the shirt is faded by the many years of sun on my back. I like to think of this as an omen that the sun will always be right behind me wherever I go. I have lost buttons, and sewn new buttons on, just like when I loose part of my self and have to find all of the pieces again. The fabric is thin and soft, but it will always keep me warm. This is like me. While I might be tired, or even not fully there, I will always be there for the ones I love.
I hope that I will have my blue shirt for many years to come. I think of it as a symbol of all things past and all things to come. While all the things that have past have made the shirt what it is now, the shirt and how it is now will help to shape the future.
I guess to be honest the shirt really is just some fabric stitched and cut in some random factory in China, but to me it is so much more. My shirt makes me feel like me. It is the one piece of clothing that makes anywhere feel like home. My shirt makes me feel like I can conquer the world, and who know maybe I will…wearing my blue shirt of course.