There’s a red dress in the back of my closet I haven’t worn in years. It doesn’t fit. It might never happen again, but I can’t bring myself to let it go. Every time I see it, I remember the night I wore it: the first fancy night out with my husband.
That’s the thing about clothes. The right outfit doesn’t just make you feel good; it brings back a memory every time you see it. You remember the shirt you wore to your first job interview, even if you barely remember what you said. (Mine was a floral black and pink over the shoulder floral top.) You remember the hoodie that carried you through a breakup (or in my case: the sweatpants).
I’ve outgrown most of those things. My body’s changed, and my style is pretty much anime merch and whatever else fits and is clean now. Still, the connection to those items is still there. It’s not because they were trendy, but they were part of me during moments that mattered.
There’s the Halloween “I’ve got your back” skeleton t-shirt my grandma gave me (with a bit of paint splatters here and there now), but I keep it as a pajama shirt for days when I miss her. There’s the jumpsuit I wore on the day of my high school graduation party, and the light blue dress I wore when I walked across the stage on graduation day.
We don’t talk enough about the emotional lives of our closets. Clothes aren’t just fabric; they’re moments in time we’ll never get back. They carry our stories and even though they no longer fit our bodies, they still have our memories.
As I packed up some boxes to move this year, I started thinking that maybe it’s okay to keep a few things I’ll never wear again. Those outfits might not make it into rotation, but they remind me of who I’ve been and how far you’ve come.
So no, I won’t be wearing that red dress again, but I’ll keep it anyway. That version of me who wore it? She mattered, and those memories she made are forever within that fabric.
