The Indestructible Pajama Bottoms

I am so excited! We’ve added a new member to our blog group! Please join me in welcoming Denise, and check out her blog– I have a feeling she’ll be a great addition to our group.

Hello Thursday! Meet my blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies  who will dazzle you with insight on various topics.  After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:

Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.

Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.

Darwin Shrugged (Denise): Civilized Observations in an Uncivilized World

For this week’s topic, Tracey chose: Find an outfit in your closet that you’ve had for a long time and write about it.

I’m going to get by on a technicality here; I don’t have an outfit, but an article of clothing I’d like to write about today.

My pajama bottoms.

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They are old. Very old. As in, circa 1994. Whenever I go through one of my Goodwill donation phases, the bottoms never find their way into a box. Or bag. I can’t seem to part with them.

I was sixteen when I received the bottoms, branded from the Gap. At the time, I loathed the Gap. I never shopped there. In my hometown, the ladies who worked there were snooty bitches, and I wasn’t having it. The very first boyfriend I ever had- well, his mother bought the Gap bottoms for me as a Christmas present. I faintly recall a tank top also, but I have no clue what happened to it. Boyfriend’s mom was and still is one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever known. She treated me as an equal, and seemed to genuinely like me. Which is why I bypassed my dislike for the Gap (I shop there now. I’ve gotten over it) and wore the bottoms.

They were super cute. They were comfortable. They were just what I needed.

Boyfriend soon became ex-boyfriend. We kept in touch over the years, and I found out that his mom passed away from breast cancer. I flew out to my hometown, and the ex and I visited her grave, reminiscing. She was a fantastic lady, and I’ve held onto the bottoms all these years, because it’s a piece of her, in some small way. A reminder of her, and her generosity. I wore the bottoms for years after, and the waist band has completely stretched out (two pregnancies will do that) and I can’t wear them anymore. They slide right off, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let them go.

Some things are worth holding onto.

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