It always amazes me how difficult it is to make that first snip into an old shirt…

I went to a clothing swap on Friday, not knowing what to expect, except that my bag of clothing brought from my own closet would not be coming home with me.  That was difficult for me as well.

I suppose I become attached to clothes – more than I may realize.  I do not have a vast closet full of a lifetime of collected garments.  Nor do I shop for clothes more than a couple times a year.  Yet somehow I treat clothing as precious, even when I no longer feel that a piece of it belongs in my life.  I said goodbye to old clothes that I once wore on a daily basis.  They used to be so “me”.  I am a different me now.

In their stead, I brought home from the clothing swap a bag of things more suited to the me I am now.  And already they make me feel like my inside and outside match a little bit more than before.  New shapes, new fabrics, and new things to cut up and remold into forms that were never intended by their manufacturer.  All new things that are made out of old stuff.  These are objects that are given a second chance.  They all deserve one.

Today was a day of scarves and cuffs fashioned from sweaters I found in my friend’s kitchen during the clothing swap, shirts I have had for years, and pieces of fabric someone was giving away in my boyfriend’s old apartment building.  Funny that every piece would come from such a different trajectory in time and merge on my kitchen floor where I cut them up.  That first cut is so hard to make because the piece of clothing I am trying to resurrect has come such a very long way.  I would hate to make an irreversible mistake.

But it’s hard to make a mistake if you swap old patterns for new ones.

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