I am not a clothes hound by any means.  Probably much like yourself, I have far more clothes than I actually wear.  It seems I gravitate to the same handful of things in my closet no matter how many others silently hang there rotting on the hanger from no wear time.  Occasionally I clean out those almost-never worn clothes.  I scale back the amount of second string clothes that merely sit the bench endlessly, though I can't seem to eradicate them totally.

The clothes I do possess are a mix of; I've had this forever, I bought it at Goodwill, I bought this at a store that doesn't sell previously worn anything, or I need to get rid of this.  Personally I do not care where the article of clothing might originate from as long as it fits my criteria for style, flatter-ability, definition of who I am and price. 

About three months ago, on a shopping trip to an outlet mall, I purchased a pair of pants and a coordinating wide strapped sleeveless shirt for work.  It hung in my closet, tags still attached, until several weeks ago when I decided to pair the top (a brand new purchase) with a Goodwill skirt (a used clothing item) I had recently scored.  The skirt and shirt looked great together.  It was a clothing peanut butter and jelly pairing.

Doug commented on my combined used and new ensemble that morning with exclamations of how great I looked in it.  I say that loosely because Doug really thinks everything is beautiful on me.  There is no doubt whatsoever that love colors his fashion sense in regards to me anyway.  It makes me both laugh with disbelief and smile with a deep sense of being loved.

This new top was a print material - way outside my normal pattern and oaths of solids only. It was also a style I don't typically wear.  Right there were two strikes against my typical style. Doug's compliment gave me the boost I needed to feel more confident in my brand spanking new shirt.  I wore the shirt and skirt that day and started to feel a bit more comfortable in them than I would have imagined possible when one steps outside of personal fashion boundaries.

Last week I wore that pairing again (remember I wear the same group of clothes over and over and over.)  I'm pretty sure my boss thinks I own only 5 outfits. 

Leaving work early that day for the anticipated arrival of my daughter, son-in-law and his parents, I stopped at the grocery store.  I sprinted through the store picking up last minute items, feeling confident in my outfit and excited for my family's soon arrival.  Pulling into the garage I hurriedly carried in the bags of groceries, put them away and went to change out of my wonderful work outfit into my shorts and a tank top.

I was in a hurry to change my clothes to get in a quick bike ride before my family arrived.  It was about a 15 mile journey round trip to Nipple Mountain and I only had 30-40 minutes to spare.  As I looked down to peel my shirt off, the wide strapped sleeveless one that I had worn for the first time a week ago, there it was.  The vertical size sticker was still stuck to the front of my shirt.  It was displayed proudly running about 6 inches in length stuck between the very large 4-lane highway of my breasts.  How in the hell had I missed something right in plain sight - twice!! 

This was the second time I had worn this shirt. I had not only worn it for a 9 hour work day with no one saying politely, "Um excuse me ma'am, but you have a vertical size s/p sticker still attached to the front of your shirt.  BTW, it's a great shirt, new?" but had grocery shopped as well.

Had no one noticed I was practically visually screaming my size and the newness of what I was wearing to everyone person who looked at my chest?!!  Right there was the answer to my own thoughts and questions,  no one noticed because there really wasn't much of anything to look  at - no real crests or even small rolling hills.  

I ripped the S/P vertical sticker off my new shirt. Safer it was I decided, for me to wear Goodwill clothes - all new manufacturer stickers had already been removed in previous wearings by previous owners. 


  1. Be thankful it was a s/p and not an xl like me ! Love you !

  2. Dawn, I went around with a huge sticker on the front of me - that negates the size. :)

  3. I would gladly wear the s/p sticker but then that would be a mismarked item.

  4. I would have thought it would have been discovered during your morning ironing ritual. Wait, my memory wheel is spinning...a breakfast waitress saying to you, "um I think you forgot to cut off your tag." It was a big-ass neon tag the size of Texas (maybe it was white but it was still big-ass) hanging from your arm that yes ladies and gentlemen, did indeed get ironed that morning. ::SIGH:: yeah, you probs should just stick with Goodwill...