Thanks, I got it from my Mom!
Photo Courtesy: Meghan Pascual
My favorite t-shirt is one I didn’t buy. It’s from a 90s high school graduation, and it’s Grateful Dead themed. On the front, you see the signature bear with wording around it that says, “Stoneman Douglas, what a weird, strange trip it’s been.” On the back are the names of the graduates within the numbers ‘94. If you look closely enough at the names in the bend of the four, you’ll see my mom’s name.
My mom was arguably born in the very best time. She grew up in the 80s, was in her teens in the 90s and experienced her 20s in 2000s Atlanta, Georgia. We’re both very sentimental in the way that we save everything. While I have memory boxes that span years long from middle school to college, my mom has hundreds of scrapbook pages with ticket stubs, old photos and letters from her college friends.
She always talked fondly of these memories, but specifically of her favorite clothes from the era. She would show me pictures of her and my dad when they first started dating and point out her favorite pair of overalls she wore in their first photo together. When Halloween would come around, she would show me college photos in her homemade Daphne costume and matching purple cardigan and skirt set.
One day, while I was in middle school, I came home to a giant chest sitting in the middle of our hallway. Inside were all of her favorite pieces from high school to her 20s. Her high school graduation shirt, her Halloween costume and old sorority date night shirts from college. She had saved them for all these years up in our attic, waiting for a moment where nostalgia hit to go through all of them.
Because I was the oldest, I got to take first-pick of what I wanted (which was most of what was in there). From there, I began asking her to look at more of her old things. It wasn’t even just her clothes, it was also jewelry, posters and CDs. Each item had a story behind it, and I took pride in knowing I was giving them new life even decades later.
Looking now, most of my favorite items in my closet are from my mom. I recently visited Atlanta a couple of weekends ago and wore my mom’s favorite necklace to a concert. I take walks on Milledge Avenue in her shirts from college. I wear her turquoise ring and chunky silver hoops almost every day.
When I started writing this article, I wanted to look into the science behind saving clothes. One article called them “wearable memories,” saying there’s emotional value in saving clothes for decades. Whether it’s for the emotional aspect of being able to have tangible reminders of life events, or just the style/quality of the clothes being vintage, I think keeping aside clothes and personal items is a chic and sustainable way to keep a physical memory box.
It’s also inspired me to do the same for my future children—to save that favorite pair of jeans, my silver sorority ring and my favorite Kate Bush poster that’s hanging in my apartment, keeping them stored until the next person decides to find value in them too.
Strike Out,
Meghan Pascual
Editor: Cira Thigpen
Athens