Decluttering an OLD T-shirt (12 Days of Decluttering)

Whew.

This has been (as expected) one crazy week.  But that still-mostly-empty box keeps staring at me, so I’m trying to add to it a little at a time.

Today, I threw in an old t-shirt.

very old t-shirt.

A t-shirt that is half-of-three-decades old.

Which, somehow . . . sounds more dramatic in my mind right now than 15.

I bought this t-shirt in Phuket, Thailand.  If you’ve been to places like Thailand, perhaps you know how difficult it is to find  well-fitting, high-quality t-shirts at touristy places on the street.

It’s not easy.

But I really wanted a Phuket t-shirt.  Seriously, it’s a gorgeous beach-ey, resort-ey town.  This t-shirt, unlike most, was of a soft and thick cotton . . . so I had high hopes for it.

But alas, the torso part shrunk at a different rate than the sleeves and the neck was a little funny and it never was long enough for me to wear it for anything but an around-the-house, everything-else-is-dirty thing.

And yet I kept it.  For fifteen years.

I’ve almost decluttered it many times.

And now I’m finally ready.  I’m not sure what’s different other than that my view of stuff has changed significantly over the past three years.  Or perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the one thing I never conquered in my Master Bedroom Saga was my own dresser drawers.

And the fact that I can’t close some of them.

Yes.  That’s probably it. 

So good-bye, Phuket! I’ll remember you fondly with my other souvenirs.  Y’know . . . the multiple sarongs, the beach dresses, the photographs . . .

 

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--Nony

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