Travel Clothes put to Rest
09.20.2009 - 09.20.2009
I didn’t buy a lot along the way. I mean, yeah, I picked up a couple things here and there, but clothes and souvenirs were not part of my agenda. And as many of you could tell through my pictures, I have pretty much worn the same things over and over again.
I started with five pairs of socks and I ended with five pairs. I started with five pairs of underwear and I ended with five. One pair of jeans, one pair of hiking pants, two shorts, a swimsuit, a handful of tees and two collared shirts were all that I had. For the most part, that is all that I came back with.
Some socks and some undies perished along the way, a t-shirt or two became stained beyond scrubbing and a few bandannas disappeared some how or another. They were all replaced to keep my calculated laundry cycle at a stretched two weeks, if necessary. And it always seemed necessary.
So when my mom asked if I had anything to wash when I finally got home and settled, I said no. Instead of attempting to breathe continual life into my travel beaten threads, I decided to put them to rest. They had served their purpose, many beyond any manufacturer’s wildest warranty offer. They had completed their mission.
Honestly, I never wanted to see them again. Neck-holes, shirt-sleeves and elastic-bands had been stretched, while my underwear and socks had been flipped and worn inside out one too many times. These articles of clothing were past salvable and needed to be burned. A ceremony ensued.
The fire was stoked and I solemnly walked out back to the pit. This was a cleansing experience, out with the old and in with the new. This chapter of my life was done. Piece by piece, I remembered the good times we shared together. The lengthy journey around the world, battling the elements, engaging with strangers and bonded together for one entire year had come to an end.
“May the spirit of your stitches and threads live on in others daring enough to take on such a task. Thanks be to Cotton. Amen.”