This is the stuff a textiles lecture at an art school is made of. The connection to fabric and form, and function, and how it literally wraps itself around our lives.

I have only had such feelings about a garment once. Its gone now, it was my fathers. He died when I was 19, he wore the shirt when I was younger. I'm 38 this year, I wore it too, until it had just a few too many holes to make it worth repairing or salvaging anymore.

It wasn't even a special tshirt. It was something he got from a trade show, as a fitter and turner, from some engine reconditioning conference thingo he attended.

Based on the age of that shirt, I calculated that I wouldn't need to buy another tshirt for something like 30 years, based on my wardrobe's contents. But just yesterday, I had to get rid of another shirt as it had a hole in it following the gym.

Keep on writing. You can't be stopped, anyway.