It is my experience that the natural death of many pieces of clothing, while expected, tends to be nonetheless quite violent and quick.
My favorite--no, only--bathrobe died today. But it didn't just wear into gentle holes: I put it on and it looked like squirrels had had a fight in it. There were several large jagged thready rents in it--big ones--I had never seen before; big holes with the weft fibers hanging in drooped swags like the windows at the Four Seasons. The cuffs were suddenly strangely unraveled. The hem had blown.
It's as if the wardrobe person for Les Mis snuck in overnight and customized it so I could play a street urchin or something. It almost looks fake. Funny how that happens. Time for a new bathrobe.
2 comments:
Hi Liz! Cathy Podeszwa here... I had to laugh at this post, because I had the exact same experience. Suddenly, my trusty flannel robe (gosh, I might have even had it in college) seemed to shred overnight, creating huge holes where it should have been covering my boobs. Phantom squirrels, indeed! I ordered myself the most luscious organic robe as a replacement. May it last until I am 60!
Hi Cathy Pod! I am sorry to hear you have had similar exp., although I am glad to know I'm not alone. The search for a new robe begins...
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