Childhood Is A Promise That Is Never Kept

I inherited this sweatshirt from my sister. She got it when we lived briefly in Germany and she was in the girl scouts there...she was in elementary school and I was barely in kindergarten at the time. So, it's rather a family joke that I can "fit" (she still can too) this sweatshirt and wear it around. Child-sized, that's me. Additional to the good-natured teasing about my stature are the valid points that I used to hate second-hand clothes. As the youngest of three girls much of my clothes growing up were hand-me-downs. I can still remember going shopping with my sisters and subtlety trying to influence their choices since that black and neon polka dotted dress would eventually get passed on to me and I really would've preferred something less bright. I often be-moaned the second-hand wardrobe growing up, although my sisters and I were actually very easy on our clothes--hardly ever ripping or staining anything, so the second-hand condition was far more psychological than something visible or tangible. Today, I still enjoy the occasional thrift store find and the rare items left over from childhood that can be squeezed into, but most of my clothes nowadays are bought new by me. I really do enjoy being able to select my clothes so precisely, not just in the morning taking pieces from my closet, but the start to finish: visiting the store, trying things on and deciding what suits my tastes. Still, there are a couple of gems from childhood peppering my closet with more than just sentimental value--like this sweatshirt.

Outfit details:
my sister's old sweatshirt


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