Wyn Drabble reckons most of us have formed a relationship with a garment that just feels right. Photo / NZME
Wyn Drabble reckons most of us have formed a relationship with a garment that just feels right. Photo / NZME
Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, writer, public speaker and musician. He is based in Hawke’s Bay.
OPINION
Do you have an affinity with an old past-its-best item of clothing?
I’m sure most of us have formed a relationship with a garment that just feels right, hangs right, fitsright so that, no matter how bedraggled it becomes, we cling doggedly to it despite sometimes being accused of looking a tad daggy.
You certainly feel the loss if you misplace the item at a time of need. My old leather gardening gloves, for instance, have gone walkabout. Yes, they’re past it and have holes worn through some of the fingertips but – except for the holed areas – they offer vital protection for firewood stacking and rose pruning to name but two tasks. And they fit right and feel right.
I’ve narrowed the culprits down and am left only with Madam Dog. When I went to the place I had left them, that guilty canine look crept across her face and she skulked away.
Dogs seem to do guilty better than any other member of the animal kingdom. If a dog went to court, the jury would not need to deliberate; the verdict would be written on the dog’s face.
Wyn Drabble's enduring jacket has been his mate for 48 years.
My tattered old gloves will probably be hidden among the leaves of impenetrable agapanthus plants. Or buried like a bone.
Mrs D’s slippers became too worn for “best” so were relegated to outside use (for brief outdoor excursions only). They, too, have disappeared from their handy (or is it footy?) position at the back door. The finger of guilt must point, once again, at Madam Dog.
There was an earlier warning sign we should have heeded. One of the slippers, with its heel area well chewed, was found in the middle of the back lawn, peeping from a half-finished hole. Something else must have distracted her mid-dig – some leather gardening gloves, perhaps.
A few years ago the Washington Post asked readers to write in about favourite old items of apparel. There were hundreds of responses.
One man shared his story of a polo shirt he bought in 1976. It featured horizontal orange and white stripes to announce he was a fan of the University of Texas. He wore that shirt to sit his learner’s licence and, by coincidence, was wearing it when he passed his full licence. Since then he has worn that shirt for every single driver’s licence photo.
Another correspondent bought a woollen herringbone overcoat at a clothing store’s bankruptcy sale, held after 36 years in business. The coat has already had a longer life than the store.
I remember having one of those coats myself and, if memory serves me well, I bought it at an op shop in London. There have been times in winter I wished I still had it.
I also have an Italian leather jacket – battle jacket I think the style is called – which I have worn regularly since the day I bought it and I continue to wear it. Apart from a couple of small nicks, it does not look at all past it; it simply has what the fashion industry would probably call an aged patina. Or designer maturity.
Because it is of a classic design, it has never looked dated or daggy despite the passing fads of the fickle fairground of fashion.
