The Economy of an Old Shirt

Consumerism is the fundamental divide between our current societal model and the bitter cries of our suffering planet. On an individual level, each time we opt out of buying something new to suit our need or perhaps greed, we spare our vote to cast another day.

My relationship with consumerism has been slowly evolving and is, at times, unpleasant. In a deeply ingrained consumerist mindset, being choosy, or deciding to live without, is associated with poverty and failure. It takes courage to break away from expectations of a consumer culture.

If nothing else, I offer that there is wealth and honor in evading consumption, which can serve to preserve your energy, and the wellness of our wider community and planet.

For me, there are two main ways I endeavor to have a healthy relationship with consumerism:

1. Being mindful of the full weight of taking on ownership of something new.
2. Preserving and using belongings until the bitter end.

Til’ Death Do Us Part

I grew up in a budget culture. Why buy anything other than the least expensive version? I had a hard time breaking out of this mindset in my early adulthood.

Dollar stores had even been a means of diversion as a youngster. We felt that there wasn’t a lot to do in our hometown as teens, so we would wander through cheap aisles seeing what we didn’t know we needed. Unfortunately, at this age, I never thought to ask where a funny novelty hat came from, or where it was going. Though it had little monetary cost ($1), the real cost was so much more.

The value of the dollar sign is so skewed that we have adopted a nonchalant attitude about buying. While I support thrift stores as a means of passing items to new, happy hands, it is an outlet for us to relinquish our poorly thought-out purchases and be done with it. Really, it all just gathers and grows. What if we didn’t have that option to pass items along? Imagine the weight each purchase would have if we had to have it with us for the rest of our lives.

This is the mindset I’m aiming for. When I do decide to buy, I think of how it got to my hands, and how long I’ll be able to keep it. (This is why I have a deep adoration of cast iron. I imagine cooking in the same seasoned skillet til’ the end of my days. Til’ death do us part.)

Keep It Going

But not everything is meant to be with us all our lives. I am a relatively active outdoors person, so clothing tends to rotate in and out. I also think that clothing is the highest driver of consumerism in my life, and a place where I must pay particular attention.

I have a pair of pants, a deserty brown, sunset color, with lots of good pockets and stretchy do-it-all fabric. They are wearing out at the knees, and one pocket began to tear away, so I sewed it with bright red thread to accentuate their wear. (I love when something has been with you a long time and it gathers memories and character.) I’m going to keep these pants until the knees blow out, then maybe they’ll be shorts for a while. They become more precious to me all of the time.

Then there are things that can’t really be sewn. My first roommate had an old t-shirt that had been with her for years, and with her father for a decade before that. There were holes in the armpits and down in the front, from repeatedly being zipped up in pants. From any outsider's perspective it would be trash, but to her it was a relic of utmost comfort. Don't we all know the feeling of a shirt after it has been worn a couple thousand times? It is a treasure to behold!

However, when the holes become larger than the fabric that remains, and you know that no one could ever love this tattered mess as you have, I suggest helping your faithful companion transition to a new lifestyle and treating yourself to a fresh pack of tissues, to wipe the sweat off your brow, or comfort you in times you need to wipe the tears from your face. After all, what better tissue could there be than one that knows your spirit through and through?

Instructions for Turning an Old Tee into Tissues

First and foremost, my condolences that your sweet tee has met its match. But there is no need to cry. You don’t even have to say goodbye! You are entering into a new and even more intimate phase of your relationship. It was meant to be.

1. Cut it up. (If it has a nice saying or image you love, keep that part as one bigger piece. If you like, it will make a special rag.)
2. Cry. Sweat. Bleed.
3. Wipe clean.
4. Wash and hang to dry. Repeat steps 2-4.

*Optional hint: Keep a sleeve or larger section to sew into a little baggy to keep them together. If you aren’t handy with a needle and thread, just pick a designated spot where you’ll always know where to find them.

Once you have your own favorite Old Tee Tissue Pack, you will rarely need to buy tissues anymore- and you’ll be surprised how much they’re good for.

The Economy of and Old Shirt

As I sought the nature of who I’d be,

I looked to the water, which lies down low

And flows slowly to humble ground below

Close to the earth, near the roots of the tree.

A current can touch but it cannot hold.

It can glide along side, absorb and seep,

What it can feel is both ancient and deep

To be this way must cause yearning to fold.

Yet I cannot be apart from my need.

I am human, I have hunger and breath.

For me to live there must also be death.

How can a soft heart live outside of greed?

I found you, draped on a rack in the musk,

A faded blue, preowned softness and hue

I felt your worn sleeve, and just then I knew

I’d wear you with pride, til’ that last dusk.

Together for years, the same shape we’d share,

When you paid the price that was mine to bear.

The toss of a branch, an enormous tear,

So gnarly the wound, had you not been there.

As it were, my blood dropped only a tear

I used your soft cloth to wipe it a away,

Then packed in my bag for another day

And now little squares, I still keep you near.

I’m not of the same low place as the sea

Yet by thinking blue I can see how to be:

I’ll honor each thread I call to serve me

For us to want little is to be free.