There are a lot of good things about being old. Not having to shop with toddlers. Not having to forego a nap. Not having to pluck your eyebrows. But one of the best things about being old is finally being able to dress for comfort, not for looks. That is how my current uniform developed. I found myself consistently wearing what was comfortable, and now I find that every day I wear jeans, a T-Shirt, and my sacred sweater.
I cannot overstate the importance of my sacred sweater. The original one was given to me around the turn of the century by a friend who got it second hand. At first, it seemed like nothing more than an ordinary sweater, but it was so comfortable that I began to wear it almost constantly. I found that it was a life saver in air conditioned restaurants and malls, and if I did get too hot, I simply tied it around my waist. Wherever I went and whatever I did, my sweater ensured my comfort, and a fierce loyalty began to grew in my heart toward it. Before long, nothing could separate me from the endearingly scruffy looking thing. It was my sacred sweater, and I knew it would be with me forever.
How naive I was! Sadly, wearing the sweater every day took it’s toll on the woolen fibers, and soon the exhausted elbows simply gave up the ghost. With a heavy heart, I realized it was time to bid farewell to my faithful friend. Happily, Value Village came to rescue and provided a successor for only $3.99.
Many years have passed since then and numerous sacred sweaters have come and gone. It has never been easy to say goodbye to a familiar friend and choose a new successor, but each time I have done it. Now I find myself in that difficult place once again - only this time I am in South American and Value Village is a continent away. There are lots of sweaters here in Chile, and my generous husband has offered to pay any price to buy me a new sacred sweater (provided he can burn the old one), but how can I explain to him the complicated process of choosing a new sacred sweater. The guidelines are as strict as the protocols for selecting a new Pope.
The sacred sweater must be 100% wool.
The sacred sweater must zipper up the front.
The sacred sweater must be loose fitting.
The sacred sweater must not be too heavy or too light.
The sacred sweater must feel completely comfortable.
The sacred sweater must not have a hood.
The sacred sweater must be blue, grey or brown.
The sacred sweater must be second hand (or at least cheap).
The reason for the last requirement is simply one of conscience. The lifespan of a sacred sweater is much less than that of a common sweater, and so I like to spend as little as possible on it. Could I bring myself to wear out an expensive sweater? I doubt it.
Thus my dilemma.
Here I am on vacation in South America surrounded by fancy and expensive sweaters. My husband is waiting in the wings with a desperate look in his eye and a credit card in his hand. My dear, old friend - who only intended to be an interim sacred sweater but ended up with a long, distinguish career - hangs in the closet, weak at the elbows and resigned to his fate. I feel his pain, and yet I also feel the collective expectations of my family and friends. I can sense the weight of their hope as they pray for me to come home wearing a successor. But what can I do? How can I claim any of these pretentious, Chilean sweater as my own?
There is only one thing to do. Stop at Value Village on the drive home from the airport.
No comments:
Post a Comment