On Collecting Sentimental T-Shirts
On Collecting Sentimental T-Shirts
Thoughts on using t-shirts as comfort blankets, and the 'pics or it didn't happen' complex
For as long as I can remember, I have been collecting graphic t-shirts as a way of capturing the memories they hold. Each t-shirt tells its own story of the person from whom it was gifted or the place from where it was purchased.
My most cherished t-shirts in my collection are the ones I wear to bed, acting as a stand-in for a comfort blanket: One is an oversized jazz festival t-shirt, stained with brown hair dye, that had been rotating between my best friend and her sister throughout their childhood years. Another one is the old Mets t-shirt my boyfriend got at one of the many games he has attended.
These are t-shirts that tell the stories of the lives lived by the people I love. When I miss one or the other, I put on one of their t-shirts because it gives me a sense of comfort. Needless to say, I was very upset when I realized I never packed any of my sentimental t-shirts when I flew back to New York last month.
The ‘pics or it didn’t happen’ complex
Assigning sentimental value to old clothes is not unique to me or my situation. The Cut featured an article, in 2017, on how to get rid of sentimental t-shirts. In it, the author argues, “I can’t get rid of these T-shirts because they remind me of poignant events and milestones in my life that I might otherwise forget. If I throw away the T-shirt I bought with my mom’s money at Warped Tour in 2003, did Warped Tour in 2003 even happen?”
You could argue that my sentimental connection to my old t-shirts is deeply rooted in a sort of ‘pics or it didn’t happen’ complex. But, when you spend most of your time 3.800 miles away from your friends, physical reminders of your existing friendships are nice.
Because, as Vogue India writes in Why Two Vogue Editors Are Talking About the Emotional Aspect of Clothing with Their Instagram Communities, “To separate from the emotional value of a piece of clothing you love is nearly impossible.”
In that same article, Liana Satenstein, former senior fashion writer at Vogue, talks about the sentimental value and the memories we attach to the clothes we can’t get rid of. She says:
There are levels to emotional connections with clothing. I used to be like this and keep everything from my mom, down to a ratty T-shirt. Now, I only keep the truly special things from her. Once you realise that you still have great memories of something that you wore and those memories aren’t going anywhere, it is easier to part with the piece. The last thing you want is for those pieces to become baggage. It feels so good to part with something that has been weighing you down.
For me, holding on to these t-shirts has become a way to instantiate what my relationships once were—a way to control what ultimately becomes foreign to me. In fact, what truly solidified the break-up with a former boyfriend of mine, a couple of years ago, was donating the tacky tourist t-shirt I bought on a vacation we took together.
Donating that t-shirt felt like I had finally ridded myself of the emotional baggage I had been carrying with me after that particular relationship ended.
Still, there is a different emotional aspect connected to getting rid of clothes that remind you of your ex and hanging on to the clothes that were gifted to you by the friends you no longer talk to on a regular basis.
What makes our friendships meaningful
As an only child of divorced parents with different nationalities, I don’t have much family present in my life. Instead, my closest friendships in life have filled that familial role for me. But, friendships are different from family relations in nature. As Julie Beck, senior editor at the Atlantic, writes:
Friendships are unique relationships because unlike family relationships, we choose to enter into them. And unlike other voluntary bonds, such as marriages and romantic relationships, they lack a formal structure. You wouldn’t go months without speaking with or seeing your significant other (hopefully), but you might go that long without contacting a friend.
I’m terrified of losing my friendships. My friends’ old t-shirts now serve as a means I can use to trick myself into believing that my friends are always nearby—that in spite of the time and distance that currently define our friendships, the essence of our connections will always remain intact.
But, as it happens, the gap my absence has left in our connections widens a little further for each day that goes by.
This is one of the most unfair parts about life; that change is inevitable. It is also the only constant in life, as a teacher once told me. He was referring to the Ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus and explained that the presence of change itself will never change.
The irony is that the notion of change might be the very thing that makes human connections so meaningful; that we choose to show up for each other, let people become a part of our lives; share meaningful experiences together; grow alongside one another, all knowing that the connection we share eventually will change.
If we embrace the uncertain nature of human connections, we might be able to find solace in the value they bring into our lives, no matter how long they are here to stay.
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Love that you shared some of your favorite ones! I thought about doing that in my post about graphic tees and kind of sad I didn’t ! (Also realize I owe you a WhatsApp soon!)