These Were A Few Of My Favorite Things...

Riding the subway this afternoon, my thoughts drifted... to clothes. Yes, admittedly this is where my thoughts tend to wander when I am most bored & tired (not that public transit is boring to me, there is often a lot of good people watching to be done, but today... well, I guess I am still pretty tired.) Anyone who knows me well knows that if I walk out of a movie and have my outfits picked out for the next week or so, this means the movie was B-O-R-I-N-G. (Sorry to say this but "Gladiator" comes to mind as an example of this.) Anyhow, this afternoon I was thinking about clothes. But more specifically, I was thinking about some of my favorite items... that I no longer possess. And for some very, uh, not-so-respectable(?) reasons. Boo!

First I was thinking about the excellent black jersey shrug that I purchased for a mere $11 from H&M last spring, when I really didn't have $$$ to spare on clothes, or even shampoo for that matter. Oh yes, I was broke then. But Devon was in town from H-fax and wanted to hit up H&M and when I saw this perfect, simple, little black shrug, I knew it would be a staple item in my wardrobe. Indeed, that was the best $11 that I ever spent. This shrug performed perfectly throughout the spring and summer, as I paired it with all my little black dresses (both fancy and casual). It served me and my typically hot-temperatured self equally well throughout the fall and winter, as an added little bit of warmth over my always short-sleeved shirts, that sometimes just didn't cut it when the temperature dropped, like it still does every now and then.

Alas, the perfect little black shrug was a casuality lost in New York earlier this year, the night of the FRIGID Festival Party. (Avid blog readers might recall me writing about the events of this, uh, jovial night... When I had all of the festival organisers running around every 20 minutes searching for my "lost" coat & purse. "Lost" in such covert places as hanging over the back of a chair in the centre of a room. Oh my.) Sadly, I was so into the party (and clearly not really into keeping track of my belongings) that my dear little shrug got left behind that night. And inherited by someone else, I guess. Because although I searched the lost and found the next day (for both my dignity and my shrug), nothing turned up. Woe is me.

As my thoughts wandered this afternoon to lamenting the loss of this excellent wardrobe item, I remembered my hot pink pashmina scarf. Again, anyone who knows me well these days, knows that these pashmina scarves have also become a bit of a staple in my wardrobe, at least 3 seasons of the year (summer in Toronto is a little too hot to rock any kind of scarf, if you ask me)! And this hot pink one, well, it was Hott. And also perfect. Not too dark, not too red, not too fluorescent, not too baby. Just a perfect, bright, bold, Pink. Sigh... That one was lost about a year and a half ago, on a glorious night that was my ex-boyfriend's birthday. Poor guy had me accompany him to his friend's band's secret concert in an empty warehouse or something (a concert organised to celebrate someone else's b-day - no joke) and he ended up babysitting his way too drunk (that's what happens when you have to BYOB, and you bring a mickey of vodka and end up drinking the whole thing straight because you forgot to stop at the store and buy mix!) ex-girlfriend. Oh Happy Day. While he did manage to get my stubborn self into a taxi home at the end of the night, he did not manage to send me on my way with my beloved hot pink pashmina. I guess it's understandable. I can be quite a case sometimes.

Now, not to make it seem like I get wasted and irresponsible all the time... 'Cause I really don't. I swear, I am the responsible one, often times!!! Really! But back in the day, when I really wasn't all that responsible (but c'mon, I was 17 and attending my first year of university all the way over in England!) I experienced my very first alcohol-related wardrobe loss. It was an excellent black skirt and shell/vest/top thing. Fantastic. Stylish. Classic. I miss it to this day. The short version of this story is that there was a wine tasting event at my school, I sampled a little too generously, ended up in pool of my own vomit (ooh, classy, I know!) in my bed. Still fully (though perhaps not so stylishly) clothed at this point. I don't even know what brave, angelic soul got down and dirty and dressed me in my PJ's and threw away my soiled bed linens and clothes, but I shall remain eternally grateful. Even if they did throw out one of my favorite outfits in the process. It probably would've never been the same anyhow.

But yes, these were a a few of my favorite things, and the things that I was thinking about today on the subway. I guess the moral of these stories is... "Don't drink and dress"??? Or maybe, don't drink so much you forget that you love what you're wearing??? I'm sure there's a lesson here... somewhere... But I don't have time to properly ruminate on it, I'm meeting an old friend for drinks in less than an hour, and I've got to go pick out an outfit!