I have a favourite pair of pajama pants that I bought the day after a housefire in Target almost four years ago. They are pale blue with big obnoxious butterflies and a drawstring waist. In the past year I noticed the waist getting a bit worn, with gaps revealing the drawstring. They’re still wearable…until now.
I put them on today after getting up late and showering and so on (I don’t actually wear pajamas to bed, you see) and walked around all day without a worry. Until I reached back to scratch my backside in the most ladylike manner possible. There is a seam to seam rent across the left buttcheek.
Not that this will discourage me from wearing them but someone will soon “save” me from the horror that is ripped pajama pants. At least you can tell if I’m wearing underpants. That’s a good thing, right?
What clothing have you been forced to discard after it simply gave up the ghost??
I loved my black sandals–wore them everywhere–stashed them very carefully on top of all the other shoes–but when the two back straps broke and the sole came off after multiple regluings I had to drop them in the trash bin.
I had a favourite pair of Levi 501’s that I bought new and wore and wore and wore. First the knees went, then a minor ‘crevasse’ under the bumline…which grew into a major chasm of geological proportions. I still wore 'em but!!
Until one day when there was more bum than denim showing, and I figured that my bum (being then around 40yrs old) was not the sort of thing to be showing off.
::sniff::
I do miss those jeans, and it HURT badly to chuck them in the bin.
I can relate with the jeans thing - I have two pairs of the same style of jeans and recently noticed in the older pair that there is a hole in the crotch, but you can’t see it unless we’re really good friends. Or I lift a leg and point it out. But that’s unlikely so they shall remain worn constantly.
My favorite pair of olive drab pants. Made of some sort of unbelievably soft cotton twill, these babies saw me through seventh grade until this summer. I wore them for everything: hiking, shopping, bumming around the house. They were holding up pretty well for being in their, uh, seventh or eighth year of life – a little thin through the delicate bits, but holding up pretty well.
And then I decided to wear them while unloading a wagonload of hay this summer.
I stooped down to pick up a bale of hay and toss it on the elevator, and RIP! A gigantic tear from the crotch to the outside seam on the left leg. Bits of me were feeling a breeze that had never felt a breeze before. Brave creature that I am, I finished unloading the wagon of hay, the leg and seat of my pants filling up with dust and hay flakes. I felt a little bit like a bowl of potpourri, honestly. A sweaty bowl of potpourri, but with a freshly mown hay scent that cannot compare to new car.
What did I do in response? Made them into cutoffs and patched the tear across the back left leg with a piece from the calf section. Sure, they don’t have the the grrrrly cargo pockets anymore, but I don’t have to worry about a butt cheek escaping any more either. I am willing to make that trade.
An old and rather rough-looking pair of black jeans that I pinched from 'im indoors. They didn’t fit him any more and it was at a time when I found it very difficult to find straight-leg or skinny-fit black jeans. Everywhere was selling blue boot-cut jeans. Hmm…those are flares, people. I didn’t like them first time round and I certainly am no more enamoured of them now.
So I had a pair of his jeans. I wore them to death and beyond. The inside leg seams were worn almost to the point of indecency, and there came a time when I realised that one more wash was going to be the end of them.
Into the bin they went, but not without wailing and gnashing of teeth.
My nylon gym shorts - I wore them (under trackpants) to play football one evening. Then, as is my wont, I went to the gym for a sauna.
I discarded my trackies and tee shirt, strode into the (mixed) sauna, sat down, and then realised that while sliding for a football my shorts had torn all up the front, and that my modesty was only marginally preserved by the remaining tatters :eek:
I rearranged the scraps for security, and as soon as the coast was clear, scuttled out of the steam room and grabbed my towel.
In the late 80’s I had a pair of ripped jeans I lived in, in just about the most literal sense imaginable. I knew the death knell had been tolled the day a cop said that if he caught me wearing them on the street again, I would be busted for indecent exposure.
I had the most comfortable pair of jeans in the world. Those things had to be 6 or 7 years old. I tearfully threw them out the same day some toddler stuck his finger through a hole on my asscheek in the grocery store and poked by butt.
I shave my head, so I often buy woolen Navy watch caps to cover my bare noggin when it’s windy or cold. (I believe they’re also called tuques.) They’re good and cheap caps, and very stylish in Navy black, but their padding has a tendency to bunch up. It’s sometimes difficult to properly fold up the sides of a watch cap if all the padding has fallen down to the edge.
This is trite, I know. I really just wanted to post because I found it amusing, that someone named Freudian Push-Up Bra is talking about wardrobe malfunctions, apparently without irony.
I totally sympathize with the jeans. I had a pair that I bought when I was 16 and I wore them until last year (I was 23). They were sooooooo comfortable. But then last summer (while I was in Scotland) they sprung a hole right where my butt is. I kept sewing the hole back together, and it wasn’t that noticable because the jeans had this design that looked like sewed-up holes anyway. But then I got home from my summer abroad, my mom took one look at them and threw them out.
I did get a new pair that are just as comfortable as the old ones. They better be, since they were 4 times more expensive!
Several pairs of jeans - I’m another one that wore them from High School almost into my thirties. Several pairs of sandals. A corduroy vest I used to wear as a shirt. My moccasins, my lace up moccasin boots. A jean jacket. A suede jacket. A pair of gym shoes.
Once I find something I like and fits well, I will wear it until it falls off or apart.
Two pairs of stretch denim jeans. Both of them eventually started getting holes in the rear end, so I had to toss 'em. But dammit, they were comfortable (Not to mention about the only pairs of jeans I had that weren’t plain blue)
I had a pair of Nike sandals that I wore for years. They were different. They didn’t have the toe “thong” thing, but had a neopreme top that went around your foot. They were great for the beach, boating, or even just hiking. They never came off if you wore them to an amusement park. I wore those things for years. Finally, after a car ride home from a long, hot day at a waterpark, my now wife decided that the smell was too much to be had. She pitched em that night. I still look for a replacement, but haven’t ever seen one. How I loved those smelly things…
For me its usually been shoes. I wear a 6 1/2 mens so they’re close to impossible to find, or there will be a ‘selection’ of 3 pairs in an entire store and that’s if I’m really lucky. When I find a pair I like, I wear them all the time.
One memorable pair; I had these ankle height boots that I really loved. So comfortable and they looked really good on me. Sadly after a while the sole developed a crack about midway up, which I fixed. Then it started to go again and I fixed them as many times as I could until there was just no saving them and I had to say farewell. Its coming time to get new shoes again and I really dread the prospect.
Why can’t stores sell normal boots anymore? Normal ass, umembellished, above ankle, black ‘dress’ boots for pants with a walkable sole and heel and a regular foot-shaped toe that can be worn all day as opposed to a few hours? Not pointy and overlong, not cowboy or elf, not stiletto or ghetto? I can only find a pair every 3 or 4 years or so by accident, and of course, I’ve worn mine down to nubs by the next time.
-Shoeless Viridiana
Not to mention my ass kicking “Japanese” (I’m guessing Hong Kong) hysteric rubbersoled platforms, stomped to shreds during the Fragility tour. mourn
I take clothes fairly regularly to the Salvation Army or whatever, but for some reason, my favourite, worn-out, holey clothes still seem to be around the house (and ONLY for wearing around the house). I think my poor husband is tired to death of seeing me lounging around in worn-out clothes (I’m currently wearing my threadbare blue corduroy Roots shirt).
My painting shirt is my Blue Rodeo “Outskirts” tour t-shirt. You Gen-X Canadians probably have an idea how old that t-shirt is.
