Today I was reminded of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray. Not because of a moldering painting languishing in the attic, it was more a question of comfort.
It’s Sunday. I’ll be making brunch for my mother-in-law and her sister when they come over to visit Mrs. E., and I needed to find a shirt to wear that could withstand my bashing around in the kitchen. I turned to a shirt so frayed at the collar and cuffs that I don’t even bother to iron it anymore.
I had the shirt made-to-measure from Gitman Brothers, which stopped making shirts during the pandemic, sometime around the turn-of-the-century. It was one of my first forays into having my clothing made. When I chose the fabric at Franco’s Fine Clothiers, Franco predicted that “This will be an old friend.” Twenty-some-odd years later, he proved to be right on the money.
You can tell that I have changed shape in the 20 some odd years since this shirt was cut for me. My lats and chest don’t fill it out like they used to. I wore a thinner cased watch, the first button on the two button cuff won’t close over my inherited Rolex. And then there’s the lining that is showing through the torn and frayed collar.
But, it’s not time to let go yet. I’ll just grow my hair down to the collar and wear a sweater. Old friends are hard to come by.