Taking the Donna Challenge
If anyone were forced to comment on my sartorial splendor, they would probably dismiss any notion thereof with the observation that I am a "casual dresser." They would be correct: My uniform is a T-shirt and blue jeans, which, due to the vagaries of retailer stock, are occasionally black jeans. (Rarely, however, are people forced to comment on my sartorial splendor; it is not a subject in vogue.) In previous blogs I explained how I obviated the need for future sock purchases and explained my sneaker replacement algorithm. Replacement jeans are obtained as needed, the process simplified by my relatively invariant mass and leg length. You will thank me for eschewing discussion of underwear, beyond the comment that my theory and that of Dave Barry and well-aligned.
That leaves the T-shirt, the only item in my daily ensemble to which I give consideration when I put together my "look" for the day. Or day-pair as it often turns out. Which brings me to a certain October back in the 1980s, early during which the Donna of the blogitem title observed me wearing <horror>the same T-shirt for the second day in a row.</horror> She accused me of having a numerically insufficient wardrobe. I countered that T-shirts become less than fully laundered both from the inside out and from the outside in, and if no activities on a given day reduce the cleanliness to an "unsatisfactory" rating, why not wear a shirt twice? Her skeptical look inspired me to assert that I could wear a different T-shirt every day for the remainder on the year. Taking me up on it, she started a log.
The Log That Time Forgot
Of course the log was just on a few sheets of notepaper, Donna has moved on to a different place of striving, and her office has long-since been repurposed. If I decided to replicate the T-shirt sequence, it would be impossible, not just because the log is missing but because the lifecycle of the T-shirt is nasty, brutish, and shrunken. Even so, I accumulate T-shirts at a somewhat more rapid pace than they self destruct, and I have little doubt that I could repeat the experiment in spirit if not in detail.
Q: Oh Yeah?
Even though that wasn't the ghost of Donna, but rather the rude interloper of the bold-face Q who occasionally challenges me on my own blog, I'm going to consider it. But since Mr. Q only exists in blogland, he (he?) will have to be satisfied with photographs. And, just in case he (he?) thinks I'm doing it in response to a challenge, I'm really doing it because the shelves are overflowing. This will give me the opportunity to segregate those shirts which are no longer wearable as I make the photos. Shirts that are too shrunken may end up on eBay, or more likely in boxes. (Those that are too holy will end up being worn, of course. See sartorial splendor, lack of, above.)
Now Playing, Now Wearing?
I don't think so. The "NP" at the bottom of every blogitem is easy. I'm always listening to music, and it's easy to list something that's playing now or was in the past few minutes. The T-shirts, however, recommend themselves to more of a batch process; I don't propose to photograph myself in the mirror every blogday. This will save me time and trouble, and will elicit silent thanks from readers everywhere. Instead, let's just call it the TotD.
NP: "You're Gone" - Marillion