Last January my friends and I were getting ready for a day of subtle tourism in San Diego’s Gaslamp district when I heard Annie say “I have no idea where I got this shirt but I love it.”
I brought my mascara wand down to take a peek and couldn’t believe my freshly glammed eyes. Annie was wearing a grey, crop top with my current favorite American Idol judge Lionel Richie’s face on it … MY emotional support graphic tee that I’d been looking for around 3 years. Apparently I’d left it behind in Sonoma when I’d visited Annie after letting her borrow it and we both forgot. This unexpected reunion made me so emotional, I had Annie take the shirt off her back right then and there (sorry Annie) so I could wear it that very day.
Since our reunion, I can’t go more than 3 days without wearing it. Most of the time it’s just to bed or around the house but every once in a while I take Lionel out on the town. Recently I was wearing it at my parent’s house and my mom said, “Wow I’m so glad that Lionel Richie shirt I randomly bought you one Easter gets so much use.” I’d say that’s an understatement. It’s not used, it’s cherished. I don’t necessarily want this in writing but I’m not even really that big of a Lionel Richie fan but somehow this shirt means the world to me.
The clothing and accessories that I hyperfixate on are random. When they come to me, I’m usually not immediately obsessed and when I buy something, I have no idea the weight that it will go on to hold. It happens naturally and there’s no rhyme or reason for it.
Growing up, I had a purple plastic hairbrush that I felt this same way with. Her name was Foxy. I didn’t name her, I’m not really like that, but that’s what it said on the handle, at least, while you could still read it. I used this hairbrush so much and for so long that it had about 5 bristles left on it and the “Foxy’ was completely faded, but I couldn’t let go. My friends and family would beg me to buy a new hairbrush but I refused. I think it got down to two bristles when I finally faced the music that I was practically using a fork to detangle my hair Ariel-style.
In middle school, I had a brown and white polka dot bikini that I wore into the ground, literally. By the time my friends and family forced me to get rid of it, the external fabric on the bottom was sagging like a diaper and the dots were stretched into ovals. To say goodbye, I laid it out on the beach during my family vacation surrounded by my closest loved ones, and played Angel by Sarah McLachlan before tossing it into the Atlantic ocean. I now realize this is littering and feel horrible but I like to imagine a dolphin is now wearing it proudly. I cut a piece off which now lives in a scrapbook in my childhood bedroom. During the goodbye ceremony, passersby on the beach asked if we were doing a religious ceremony. I smiled and said, “Yeah… something like that.” That bikini WAS my religion.
While I have new hyperfixations in adulthood, (a pair of Old Navy high-waisted sweatpants, a graphic t-shirt that says “Help! I’m talking and I can’t shut up!” and one half of a The Color Purple (2023) branded compact mirror to name a few), I’ve found myself replacing items I loved in childhood with new versions of the same. Last summer I bought an almost identical brown and white bikini to the one lost at sea. For my senior year of college, I wore a grown-up version of the yellow backpack I was obsessed with in elementary school and you know damn well I searched for the purple Foxy hairbrush but to no avail.
I want so badly to donate all of the clothes I don’t wear enough but I put an unfair amount of nostalgia on everything I own. My black jumpsuit that’s missing a button and actually no longer fits over my thighs? It reminds me of the time I wore it for a fun Easter Sunday with my family when I forced everyone to be in multiple of my TikToks. The maroon UMass Journalism t-shirt that I have quite literally never worn? Can’t get rid of that because I don’t want to forget what my college major was. The floral pants I used to love but that I find quite ugly now? I wore them on the first fun day post-COVID so they have good energy even if they are living permanently in storage under my bed.
I also feel bad for my clothes – the ones that aren’t in heavy rotation. Sometimes I’ll reach further back in the closet and wear a shirt I don’t even really like that just because I feel bad she doesn’t get out much.
What I need is for someone to rob me. Not anything valuable but just the clothes the robber knows I’m never going to wear again but can’t get myself to get rid of. And while they’re at it, can they also take the birthday cards from every single year of my life that I feel too bad getting rid of? That would help clear up some space honestly.