Old clothes are more than just things we've worn. They are the t-shirt that your parents gave you that no amount of holes will make you give up, the velvet bolero that your Nan gave you and that your Mum ruined by putting in the wash, and the jumper you wore at least once a week but now is so pilled that you don’t want to put it on.
The bondage shirt that I wore on my first day at University was damaged irreparably last (academic) year. I cried. It held memories in its cloth. My first days, in jokes about how annoying the fastenings on my clothes are. It was special when I bought it, reduced but still expensive by my standards. But this was the top I wanted to wear. The top I wanted people to see me in.
Today I want to talk about the jumper. I bought it before Christmas last year. The first time I wore it was too my Aunt's Boxing Day party. The most memorable was on a Sunday 15th of January. Tom and I live far apart so he comes (or I go to him but that's a different story) for the weekend. The first time he came on Saturday. Stayed 'til Sunday 15th. When I wore the jumper. And yes, I can still remember what he wore too.
So the jumper pilled and pilled and pilled. And I needed to keep it. I wanted to recycle it. And I knew I couldn't felt it being all elastain and acrylic. I saw the hat in AlternaCrafts. It's made from sewing the jumper and braiding bits of it. And my jumper has a second life. Most of the pilling was cut out and my new hat looks darling.
My yarn also comes with sentiment attached. That's why my porn is usually accompanied by erotica. But I think I'll leave this one a mystery. Kid Classic.