"I don't think I shall ever see,A moment of silence please: my favorite shirt has gone to the great laundry basket in the sky.
A shirt as lovely as a T."
A couple of weeks ago when I was getting ready for bed, my favorite T ripped as I was taking it off. Ripped beyond fixing, beyond salvaging. The shirt wasn't in great shape to begin with, but it was good enough to wear around the house after a long day of work. It was light and comfortable. Comfort clothing.
I bought the shirt in Ithaca when I was visiting Tara the summer before we got engaged. Tara and I went shopping because I had somehow managed to forget to bring short sleeve shirts with me. I picked it up at an American Eagle, back when they had decent quality clothes. Tara was never really crazy about the shirt, but I loved it and we were in that phase of the relationship where we still a little afraid of speaking frankly with each other.
As silly as it sounds, the shirt always made me feel cool. I don't really know why; it was just a plain mustard yellow T. It's funny how clothes can have that effect on you. You can go from feeling down to feeling great just by slipping into your favorite shirt or jeans. And you can do the reverse when you need to wear that shirt to work that doesn't really fit you properly.
I am on the lookout for the next great T.