Ratty Roomy “Why Me” Sweatshirt


In those self-obsessed made for TV moments, my mood wears the ratty roomy “Why Me” sweatshirt. The color is faded mauve. A throwback hue from some misinformed fashion fad of decades ago. The mauve screams of “I should of….”

The sweatshirt is triple X huge so no matter whether my weight goes up or down, I have no problem fitting into it. I’m constantly pushing up the sleeves and catching the extra material on doorknobs. The fiber is permeated with a level of frustration and hopelessness and echoes, “If he/she would only…”

The fabric blend is 90% polyester, so it has no breathablilty. And it has the faint rancid odor of “If only this would happen then I could...”.

I’ve washed it in highly scented detergents. I spritzed it with organic hydrosols and I’ve used my best hand sewing skills to take up the sleeves and pull in the body. Once, I even used a home dye kit to change it from faded mauve to a deep forest green. I have spent lots of time and money on trying to change the outward appearance of my ratty, roomy “Why Me” sweatshirt. But the camouflaging hasn’t worked. The smell returns, the stitches fall out and the dye comes off in my hands.

Recently, one day, when my mood was shaken by the reaction of a friend to something I had done, I felt the shiver of victim ripple through my body. My first habitual movement was to go find my ratty, roomy “Why Me” sweatshirt. But I stopped. Thought about it for a moment and realized I hadn’t worn my sweatshirt in quite awhile. I had to think about where it might have gone.

Had I thrown it away and didn’t remember? Was it buried at the bottom of the laundry basket? I instinctively went to the hook on the back of my bedroom door, where it has hung for years. It was there limply hanging in the same position as always.

But instead my hand went to the hook next to it. And I took down my “ I’m At Choice” beret. The sequence panel across the front sparkled with lightness and celebration of "Let others be who they are. It has no bearing on who you are" .

The crushed purple velvet felt soft and comforting to the touch and whispered to me, "Trust yourself". The moment I placed it on my head, the victim chill left my body. I smiled in the mirror. The royal color of the beret brought out the deep hazel of my eyes. I winked at my reflection and realized, I look really great in this hat.