In part of my effort to start saving more funditos, I'm trying to 'reinvent the wheel' with my wardrobe. I am a clothes packrat. I still have clothes I wore in the 8th grade. I keep them, and I don't know why. It's not like they fit anymore. I'll go to throw them out, and I'll tell myself there may still be a .000001% chance that I may wear them again (Sooooooo you're telling me there's a chance??!?!?!? Name that movie!). So then I decide that I must keep them, in the event that the .000001% chance presents itself.
Needless to say, I have a bunch of old clothes hanging out in my closet. Instead of going out and buying new clothes, I'm trying to work with what I've got, whether its 28 years old or not. This isn't really a problem for me, as I'm really not a stylish person. I'm a Target kinda gal.
Anyway, yesterday I trekked into the deepest pits of my closet and pulled out a pretty old shirt. It was actually wayyy old. I'm thinking circa 2003ish. Which would have been my junior year of high school. Is this embarrassing? Should I be telling people this?
I decided to throw caution to the wind, and go for it. This was the .000001% chance this old gem was waiting for. So I put the shirt on and went about my business.
Later, Ben came home from work. I was standing in the kitchen, and he came up and kissed my cheek and said "Wow, I really like that shirt!"
Ahh, good choice, Britt! I guess this ole' shirt can stick around for another 10 years or so!
"Do you really like it? It's really old, I was probably just going throw it away."
"No! Don't throw it away! I really like it! It's really pretty. It makes you look like a pilgrim."
Hmmmm. Pilgrim. Not exactly the look I was going for......