I want to write here about t-shirts because they've been very prevalent in my existence over the last few days. This is again about ironing to a certain extent because, in this house, although it doesn't get done very often, it does get done when the guilt takes over, or when I'm feeling in a particular mood. Can't quite pin-point it (so I could avoid it!) but something gets me up that stair and ironing, every now and again.
So I started on the never-ending pile of t-shirts that J has accumulated over the years. When I say years, I don't mean years of not being ironed, just years of buying. Although we'll be ignoring J's cries of 'I haven't seen this one in years!', because that's patent nonsense... ahem.
I try and circulate them, honestly. On the occasions I do a pile, I do try not to do those that just came out of the wash because, well, we've just seen that one. I'm now of the opinion that he goes up there every so often and mixes the buggers up because I do sort them, and roll them up (for later ironing) but there's always one he hasn't seen in ages and particularly wants.... after the fact... grrrrr.
There are so many it's getting ridiculous but he won't part with a one. Not. A. One. I can get him as far as piling up those he really-cannot-wear-but-can't-part-with. There are also those that are dated-but-definitely-can't-go, and those, like 'beer adverts' that do nobody any favours. So those types are piled (25 ironed t-shirts!) in a basket, taking up room on top of the dryer. There are the 40 or so that have been in the we-never-wear-this-shit-but-will-never-part-with-just-in-case-we-do cupboard for years already, and there's the 40 or so in a big box in his wardrobe (all football related I might add) but that still leaves... how many? I still need to count but the shelves are piled high, 2 piles deep. Neatly, but jeezo, hahaha!
There's the music related ones... loads of Grateful Dead and Frank Zappa of course. Loads of concerts we've been to of all sorts - those are always dated, which in turn dates the shirt, but that's fine... 'hey, we were there!' Loads of bands, favourite singers, individual musicians. Then there's the holiday type ones - places we've been, sights we've seen, (we've been around so there's loads of them). Arty ones... favourites like Van Gogh, Escher, Miro. Then there's the inevitable Che Guevara one which was bought only last year to finally replace the much regretted original one from the '70s which he gave away in the '80s to a kid that asked for it... it was at least 10 years old then, but it still hurts that he parted with it.
I get it, I do! I'm not saying he should dump 'em. I have suggested I cut up the older ones and make a patchwork quilt of his oldest and most favourite ones but... 'not yet'. Which is probably for the best as I'm not sure I can do patchwork, it's just an idea I have.
I myself am the world's worst (best?) at keeping old things we really don't need - the boxes behind the curtain under the eaves upstairs, filled with old Christmas cards (for instance) are witness to that - but we have been on a bit of a clear-out vendetta these last weeks so are doing well actually. Today even, there are 5, that's five! old hard drives being collected by special rubbish lorry - that and a huge bag of dud HA batteries. He's only just emptied a drawer where I've been stashing magazines (so many it'll make the paper wheely -bin too heavy) and they're all clubby type mags... we don't buy glossies but are members of this and that and they all have magazines. His room is currently an obstacle course of old computers and bits of computer, CDs and books, multiple mobile phones, cameras and.... just stuff! It's kinda shocking and actually quite the miracle that our house still looks fairly livable... considering.
So... t-shirts. They're kinda 'indicative' perhaps? Indicative of rampant consumerism that is bordering on the criminal. Well, not criminal but... not nice. If we tossed the old stuff as soon as new was bought, we'd be 'consuming' just as much but would look less like hoarders, which I dare say we are, to a lesser degree. We're really not like those total horrors you see on 'The Hoarder Next Door' or something, but we are quite bad and t-shirts are probably the least of it. We do try to give stuff away but rarely manage to please anyone - always nice when you do isn't it? We've never had much luck at selling anything, even for a pittance, and well, it's understandable, nobody wants other folks' junk - but to then just dump stuff? So we hang on to it 'just in case' and 30 years later we find it again and it still hurts to dump it.
But t-shirts? They each have their own story, memory, and ach, it's just a t-shirt eh? 'Do you remember where I bought this?' (I very often do!) and 'oh you can't toss that one!' In a way they tell a bit of a story. We were there, we did this or that, we saw them! The fact that some, while not exactly moth-eaten are not very presentable (in as presentable a state as a t-shirt can be) still doesn't take away from their little story.
So now they're all ironed, and if he wears a clean one every day for 8 weeks I still won't have to iron another one. That'll do me.
ADDENDUM: Counted! 133 T-shirts!!! One Hundred and Thirty Three!!
(oh, and 10 (TEN!) old hard drives, not 5, are still awaiting collection.)
