Tuesday, December 28, 1999

The post-Christmas clothing exchange is a tradition that should have been initiated by myself years ago. Rather than creating a graveyard for all those unwanted clothes, a simple trip to the store from which they were bought, and back onto the rack for someone who wants them. In return, I get something I can use: money.

Of course, nothing is ever as simple as it should be. Of the clothes I got, I decided that two shirts were unworthy of being placed upon my body. One in particular, a mock turtleneck, had me feeling claustrophobic when I tried it on. There's a reason I don't wear those things. If I want the cozy bound feeling, I'll either check into my friendly local asylum or date some chick who is into kinky B & D.

Anyway, the mock turtleneck was the only shirt I could get rid of today. The store it was bought from - JC Penny - is in our area. The other shirt, some V-neck thing created by designers who apparently think it's fashionable to have the stitching on the outside, was bought at Old Navy. The closest Old Navy store is in Watertown, a municipality about 70 miles away from Potsdam (and incidentally, where the blasted shirt was bought).

Ever since I first saw an Old Navy commercial on TV, I've wanted to see the place go out of business. Why? This may sound shallow, but I think they should go belly-up just on the basis that this store has the most annoying commercials in the world. I'm sure that I'm not the only one who thinks this. Of course, add to that the trauma I incurred hearing my youngest brother singing, "Old Navy...Old Navy...Old Navy performance fleece," every time one of their products was unwrapped during Christmas 1998, and you begin to understand why I hate this company.

Anyway, I got the JC penny shirt out of my life, in exchange for some money (approximately enough to keep me in college an additional five minutes). The Old Navy shirt, however, continues to stare at me pathetically from my bedspread, just waiting to be worn - something that will never happen as long as I own it. Seeing as how I have no trips to Watertown happening in the foreseeable future, it looks like it's fate has been sealed: the bottom-drawer graveyard.

I can almost hear it weeping. I laugh in the face of its tears! Ha ha ha!