The Misfit Sweatshirts

The other day I was considering buying a new sweatshirt for myself. A simple black hoodie. Part of the hipster uniform. Then, this morning, as I was digging through my closet, I was reminded that I have five hoodies already. Drat.

I demand perfection of my hoodies. And none of mine quite make the grade. Which is too bad, because a good hoodie is a near-perfect garment. If it gets warm, you unzip it. If you're still warm, take it off and tie it around your waist. Get chilly? Put up the hood. Hands chilly? It's got pockets. Nice big, "throw in the discman and a bottle of water and the hands still fit" pockets. It's also a universal symbol of coolness. It's earthy, punky, sporty, hip-hoppy, blue-collar goodness. It's the fabric of life.

Like I said, I have five. And none of them are quite right. Why? Well, let's go through this one by one (and this is for my own benefit as much as anyone else's...though I guess that could be said of my entire blog):

Dark green zip-up hoodie: Purchased in late high school or early college (1994-'95), dating back to the days of grunge (think of it this way, I used to wear it under flannel shirts). It's been a good soldier over the years, but it's threadbare and has holes in the arm that appear to have been chewed by mice. It's still useful for camping in the summer, or running in the winter, but not wearing in public. Which is a shame, because it fits right and it has a well-cut hood that gives full coverage of the head without covering the eyes.

Royal blue pullover hoodie: Purchased my first year in Madison (1995 or '96). Another well-fitting, well-cut hoodie. It's just a little baggy and the hood gives full coverage without drowning you. However, my then-girlfriend-now-wife borrowed it—well, stole it really—repeatedly for work, leaving it with bleach splatters on the sleeve. Also, I have this "thing" against pullover overlayers. They're either on or off. With a zip up, you can always unzip—or do the partial unzip—to cool off. The possibilities are endless (well, about two and a half feet of zipper endless).

Small black hoodie: Received as a Christmas gift around 2003 or so...between San Diego and Boston for me. It's snug, which makes it a good underlayer (under another jacket, for instance), but slightly less fun as an overlayer. But the biggest drawback is the hood. The hood is cut small, so you don't get full head coverage. It's almost like someone was looking to cut costs and said, "Well, no one actually uses the hood, lets cut some fabric out of that." Which isn't true. I use the hood. Lots of people use it. If nothing else, it makes a good makeshift pillow in a pinch, just fold it under your head and the bench of a picnic table makes a perfect bed.

Black velux-lined hoodie: Also received as a gift for the same Christmas mentioned above (inlaws gave me this, my family the other). The velux lining makes it almost uncomfortably warm. It's also as big as the other is small. I can get lost in it, and I'm a big guy. Nevertheless, I wore it quite a bit, until the zipper got slammed in my closet door. Now the zipper doesn't work. Which, I suppose, is a sign that I should get rid of it. But maybe I can replace the zipper. It's on my list of things to do, but never that high up.

Blue fleece hoodie: Received as a gift, Christmas 2004. An odd thing: A hoodie, but also a fleece. It's comfortable and warm, but big. The hood is like a shroud. Wearing it makes me feel like Emperor Palpatine without the bad skin. Which, I suppose, would be a good thing, if I could shoot thunderbolts from my fingertips.

All this leads to complicated questions: When is it OK to return or get rid of a gift? This year, I kept the fleece hoodie, but returned a shirt and pants. The shirt didn't fit. The pants weren't the right cut. Was I being too picky? Not picky enough?

And what about old clothes? How long to you hang on to something with sentimental but little practical value? How long do you keep items you can only wear running or working? Theoretically, one could stockpile an entire closet full of clothes that could only be worn as grubbies.

How long do you keep that sweatshirt that you only wear once in a while? When do you replace it? When do you give it away?

And what about sweatshops? The apparel industry's a dirty business. Buy clothes, you're probably buying sweatshop...unless you have money to burn and time to hunt and read. The simplest way to combat sweatshops is to buy less. But what not to buy?

We're all consumers. Be it fashion or just essentials...we all "need" (ooh, that's a slippery word) food, clothing, and shelter. The trick is what and how much we need. The trick is being the right kind of consumer. The trick is not to mind.

(Disclaimer: The penultimate line (yeah, I just used that word) was lifted from Mike, who lifted it from Cat and Girl. The last line was lifted from The Search for Signs of Inteligent Life in the Universe, which lifted it from Lawrence of Arabia.)