Even at the most mundane of times - i.e. sorting out my dirty laundry - the mind wanders to the blog. I put this ye olde vintage NY Mets tee in the wash for must have been 1000th time and literally had a mental jog where I thought "What the heck?! I haven't actually ever stated that this is the ONE item in my wardrobe that I would save on my blog." Yes, and I also literally slapped my forehead in comic fashion whilst saying retro mint gems like "What the heck!".
I've answered the ol' "What would you save in a fire?" question so many times for other people but I guess I haven't had the time to take a breather and state the obvious here. I answer it with the greatest degree of truth and have no shame in saying that my most prized wardrobe posession is essentially a grotty grey tee that has seen better days.
It was a torrent of humidity in New York that led me to going into vintage store X in Greenwich Village sometime back when I was 18 and trekking around NYC by myself in a bid to escape another essay on British-French relations in the 18th century. I know nothing about the NY Mets or baseball for that matter but picked up this tee for $5. Something about the length, the particular blend of grey cotton jersey, the stretched neckline and cap sleeves means I've worn this on every occasion I could possibly get it in there.
With a cheap vintage lace slip skirt, some ballet pumps, I'd be off into the night ending up watching the sun rise at Trafalgar Square. Turned inside out and worn under a spangly prom dress, the spangliness is toned down and there's no need for that awkward boob pull-up action (you'll know that hand manouvre if you've worn strapless dresses before). One shoulder slips down and with a head tilt, and it's also a fairly trusty dating tee (not that I date anymore...). And it goes without saying that it's vegging out material of course. In fact, I'm sitting here wearing it right now watching a sorry Arsenal side losing miserably.
It was the intial fuel that sparked the quest for other tees of the grey jersey ilk - a fairly old Bernhard Willhelm padded "Sheriff" tee and a recent Marc by Marc Jacobs addition.
Whilst I'm in fear of overwashing my dearly beloved tee (Do tees fall apart? Or is that just a rumour people like to spread about H&M clothes...), I'm getting some wear out of this COS short sleeved sweatshirt that belongs to the boyf. He layers it over tees and I bung it over dresses. I may just be ever so slightly missing the days when I naively thought a bit of loose grey cotton was a flirty option.
