I just had to toss away my oldest shirt today. It was a flanel one, from the very days I decided to start growing my hear (and at least wearing it differently), rebelling against school and my parents, and trying to find myself. It was there when I graduated high school - both times. It was there when I made the Probeersel books. It's travelled across the globe with me. It was there in university. It was there through ALL of it. I've had it for 13 years.
But the right elbow decided to be completely worn down and burst open.
So with one last salute, I tossed it in a garbage can. *raises a drink* Here's to all the women who can't comprehend why we men value long-lasting clothes that we wear for years and years and wear down to their last threads.
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