Apropos of nothing, really

I like silk shirts. Growing up, the vast percentage of clothing I had was either hand-made by Mom or else hand-me-down from random people. Not that there is anything wrong with that...among her other numerous talents, Mom was a marvelous seamstress. There is something very reassuring and cool about being able to go through hundreds upon hundreds of patterns, pick out any shirt you like, and know your Mom will make you one that looks just like the picture in a few days. Pick a pattern, pick a fabric, check your hanger.

Of course, that also meant my clothes were limited to whatever Simplicity (?) patterns our local JC Penneys had on display and whatever fabrics they had. I looked like a country and Western star for a few years there with a constant supply of checked shirts in the "Western" style...blue and white checked, brown and white checked, red and white checked, other color of blue and white checked, other color of brown and...well, you get the picture.

But then someone gave us some shirts and there were 2 I absolutely fell in love with. They were the first two really nice shirts I ever owned.

One was sort of a deep, rich purple with a bunch of shapes...what do I call the shape...modified pear? with little riffles around the shapes. It was a gorgeous shirt. The other was blue with green circles all over it outlined by black.

And they were silk.

Oh, what a magnificent fabric! Years of basic cloth were swept away as for the first time I felt something pleasant against my skin. Silk wasn't just something you wore because it looked a little different from the other shirts of the same fabric...it actually felt smooth and, dare I say it...luxurious?

I wore the daylights out of those shirts. It was a sad, sad day for me when I wore them out. Actually, it inspired my first ever clothing purchase. I guess in one way I was spoiled..since Mom made the vast majority of my shirts, I never had to buy any. On the dark side...I never really have been able to spend money on clothes because it seems like such a waste. But for a silk shirt...a jet-black silk shirt...oh, yeah, I actually spent a few bucks for some clothes.

Of course, it being me, it was pretty much wasted money. You see, while on the surface silk shirts are a good idea for everyone. But there is a certain sub-set of people for whom silk shirts are simply stupid.

That would be the people for whom sweat is as natural as breath and almost as common. You pick up a pencil and the strain of the effort causes a bead of sweat to pop out on your forehead. Actually move the pencil and that drop becomes three spread between head, back, and armpits. Perform any actual, genuine effort...like, I don't know, walking...or breathing...and sweat pops out all over.

Now, you may not see the connection...but let me assure you sweat and silk shirts are not a good combination. On a shapely lady that cling might be attractive...on a barrel-chested, big-bellied boy...not so much. And even worse, once it is wet, silk doesn't breathe...so the sweat quotient increases proportionately. It gets sweatier and stickier which produces more sweat which produces more stick...you see the problem here.

So silk starts out stupendously sumptuous and decadent...and ends up in wet rags.

So sad. And silly. Kind of like this post. But I warned you it was apropos of nothing...