The Sweater

I'm an odd duck. I tend to like things to be pristine, crisp, and new. However, I'm about to let you in on a little secret of mine. My absolute favorite piece of clothing is anything but pristine. In fact, it's...well, let me show you:



Not only is it a hideously hot shade of pink, but it's definitely seen better days. And yet, I wear this garment more than any other. It makes me feel all...artsy. It must be the life it's seen. It has stains from when I painted the first room I had to myself, and stains from painting my new room in a new house that I moved into. It has stains from staining furniture which I did as a volunteer project with Camp Fire, and it has stains from the first time I ever tried (and failed!) to cast resin. It still smells faintly of plaster, and has an epic hole of doom in the sleeve where it came a little too close to comfort with uber harsh chemicals. It has snags from my dremel, and bits of clay permanently adhered.

Most people would be ashamed to be seen in a knit hot pink sweater from the 80s that's three sizes too big for them, covered in paint and riddled with holes. But not me. I love the way it feels, and how it instantly puts me in the zone when I work. It's almost taken on a religious purpose, because it feels like when I put it over my head, I enter a ritual space of sheer creativity.

So whether it's to protect me from splattered house paint or from chemicals in the dark room, me and my sweater I ready to take it on.