There are times when the new is just too new and too shiny.
Times when the only thing that will do is something old, well loved, worn in and comfy.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I dislike new things, far from it. I just prefer them when they’ve dirtied down a bit and become more like me, a bit frayed round the edges!
My favourite jumper describes this very well. I bought it new a very very long time ago now. It’s bobbly, has little moth holes in it, smells of camphor (vain attempt to keep the moths away) and warmness and I love it. I know that it looks crappy and should probably be donated to an animal shelter for cat blankets but I can’t bear to part with it. You see, it’s not just a jumper. It’s a memory bank, all the happy times and sad times I’ve had whilst wearing it are woven into each knitted stitch.
The weather is getting colder now. Last night I went to the suitcase on top of the wardrobe, opened it up and found my favourite jumper. I pulled it on over my tired, slightly sad head and instantly felt better. It was like being wrapped in a hug from all the friends I’ve ever had.
New things are cool, I know they are, but old things have soul.