A few days ago, I finished reading the book Worn Stories by artist and writer Emily Spivak. In it, Spivak discusses the meaning that clothes can have. From a grandmother’s sweater to a necklace to a favorite pair of shoes, clothes can bring you back to a special time, place, memory or person.
Spivak shares the as-told-to stories of other artists (authors, directors, fashion designers, and writers) and the clothes that hold special meaning for them. There are shoes that walked the length of the Great Wall of China, a handmade tie passed down through generations and a t-shirt donated to a thrift store by one friend and bought by another. Although each of these articles of clothing may seem meaningless to an outsider, each one carries a unique story – and these are the ones that Spivak shares.
Even though I’ve never hiked 13,000 miles in one pair of boots or owned something from a great-great-great grandparent, I do have many items in my closet that have a special place in my heart. Some are more interesting than others, but they’re important to me all the same.
Like Spivak, I agree that clothes have the ability to transport you back to a certain time, place or feeling. I vividly remember my outfit on my first day of fifth grade – a blue Jonas Brothers t-shirt and matching seersucker Bermuda shorts – and how excited I was to have picked it for myself. It was the first time that I can remember the ritual of choosing the next day’s outfit the night before (something that I still do to this day). That not-so-stylish outfit is ingrained in my memory as a significant moment in my fashion-centered life. It was the first time I really cared what I was going to wear (however sartorially misguided the outfit itself may have been).
Aside from that outfit, there are many more pieces whose stories I could share – the sweater I wore when I found out I got into my dream college or the first pair of expensive sneakers I ever bought. But somehow I narrowed these special pieces down to three, and this is my own “worn story.”
1. A floral sundress
My mom wore this dress for her and my dad’s (second) marriage ceremony. After their real wedding (you know, white dress and veil), they spent their honeymoon in Hawaii. While they were there, my dad surprised her with another ceremony, and this is the dress she wore.
Fifteen years later, I got to wear the same dress on our family vacation to Hawaii. It fit like a glove. It was special to wear something that meant so much to my mom. Every time I look at it I’m reminded of the sentimentality it holds for her, and now for me.
However, if I think about it for long enough, I get a bit weirded out. Either I had the body of a 32-year-old at age 14, or my mom had the body of a 14-year-old at age 32. But maybe it’s just one of those magical dresses that fits every body type. (At least that is what I have trained myself to believe.)
Maybe one day my brother can wear the super stylish shirt my dad has on in the picture. He’s known for never throwing away old clothes (or buying new ones), so I’d bet money that he still has it.
2. A black onyx ring
My mom gave me this ring when I turned 18, a ring that she got from her mom on her own 16th birthday. After getting the ring, I wore it every single day (my closet is entirely black and white, so it goes with everything). I stopped wearing it when I went to college, choosing to leave it at home rather than risk it being lost or stolen. Yet, when I return home, I wear it every single day. My hand feels naked without it.
Even though this small ring doesn’t trace back generations and generations, it’s special. One day I’ll pass it on to my daughter (if I am lucky enough to have one), she’ll pass it on to hers, and eventually, it may reach that coveted 100-year-old status. Plus, it’d be nice to be the cool great-great-grandma.
3. A cozy sweater
I bought this sweater on sale for 75 percent off. It’s three sizes too big and now has a mysterious orange stain on the sleeve, but it’s the best sweater I own.
I wore this sweater as many times as I could without it getting ratty during my freshman year of college. (You could even argue that I may have worn it too often.) It served as my protection in the buildings that were always painfully cold around campus.
This sweater means a lot to one of my best friends, and therefore, means a lot to me. In the first week of school, my friends and I were sitting in the dining hall. My now-best-friend had never interacted with or even seen us before, but she had the confidence to ask to sit with us. I remember that day not only because I was floored by her confidence, but because it was the beginning of a friendship. She remembered that day because she finally found a group of friends she loved. (Maybe it was my comforting sweater that drew her to us in the first place.)
She reminds me every time I wear the sweater: “You were wearing that on the day I met you.” Although this sweater doesn’t have a ton of sentimental value to me (although it is my favorite sweater to date), it illustrates how clothes can hold memories. A dress can have so much more meaning than first meets the eye, a ring can be more than just a piece of jewelry, and a sweatshirt’s stitching can carry a story.