- Strange Highways - November 5, 2012
- Silver Linings - April 15, 2012
- Poverty of Clothing Isn’t Poverty of the Mind - April 13, 2012
- Who’s Mad? - April 13, 2012
- Fitness Tips that Actually Work - April 13, 2012
- Crimson - April 13, 2012
- Beneath Watery Graves - March 6, 2012
- Proud Skin - March 5, 2012
- The Forgotten - March 4, 2012
- A Second Look at an Imperfect Marriage - March 4, 2012
My pants are ripping apart. These are an old pair of black slacks I used to wear in the office, once part of my work wardrobe. The first tear began at the crotch, just a tiny bit- you won’t even see it until you look closely. Nanay mended it for me, unfortunately not too subtly, because she used red-colored thread. Now the sides are already splitting in the seams near my right hip. I am troubled. No one wants to do the full monty in a Catholic institution.
These are the only black pants I wear with my uniform. I know I should have bought perhaps another pair, but back when I enrolled last year- it was almost a spur of the moment decision for me, thus I wasn’t really sure I’d pursue it. So from June of 2006, I would wear this pair from Monday to Saturday, washing it on Wednesday and Sunday nights and hanging it to dry at the back of the fridge so I can wear it again the next day. It never occurred to me to buy another pair; and even now, more than a year later. I thought to myself- God willing, if I make it to Level 3 I would be wearing the all-white uniform anyway, since we would be mostly stationed at the assigned hospital.
You are probably shaking your head, saying “Let it go! Buy two pairs!” Maybe I’m just a sentimental schmuck, but like the thought that these old pair have gone with me through the long haul of a career change. I like the fact that they have endured the wears and tears and have maximized their use.
I used to be a clotheshorse back in the days. I spent a chunk of my wages buying outfits (these pants were actually one half of my favorite black suit) and I loved being dressed up for work, especially when executives from our big clients would visit the office. I still have those clothes, tucked away in a locked suitcase and smelling of mothballs. Would they still look good on me? I often wondered.
Like the past slowly dissolving, all of my things from work have deteriorated through time. I’m a little pissed, and maybe a little sad about it- but I’m having the time of my life with all my current adventures. I mostly dress down now, since there are no client meetings to go to or interviews- just going to school and traveling around the province. I’m content, I really am. Happy that at last I’ve looked beyond the material gauge of success- it’s a life lesson learned.
Photo credit: lowellwriter.hubpages.com