Jamie
Signature Piece: On Clothing
A piece that I still have in my wardrobe now is a white t-shirt with a large yellow Three Eyed Face (by artist, Keith Haring) printed on the front. This was one of my favourite T-shirts at the time; most of the others I owned were plain, or had negligible prints on them.
After many years of wearing it, the originally-white cloth has aged; it has a slightly greyish tone now. The hems of the shirt have gotten yellowy and stretched out – you can see widened gaps between each row of knitted fabric. There are some yellow stains near the chest area (no idea where they came from). The cloth is soft to the touch; it has lost its “freshness”/“crispness.” Little grey pills have formed all over, but the print is still mostly intact, though white streaks have appeared randomly across the image where the shirt has most likely been stretched, cracking the ink. Threads are still in place; the tag seems to be a bit loose, though. The shirt has lost its form, and it’s looking a bit misshaped.
Of the many times the three-eyed shirt (re)appeared in my life, here are some of the most memorable:
I
I wore the weird SpongeBob t-shirt to my very first concert, which was around my high school years. It was a rock band from Korea, and I was ecstatic to have learned of their existence just in time for their concert. My parents didn’t approve of me going; the cost was just too much. I gathered the money I earned from tutoring, plus some from Chinese New Year, and paid for my ticket without their help. At the time, I was too shy to go anywhere on my own, and begged my dad to keep me company. None of my friends even knew the band; it would be pointless to ask them. He finally complied when I found discounted tickets online for the both of us.
We bought ourselves some decent seats that weren’t too far back. All around me were strangers that seemed older, and had a better grasp of the Korean Language – I didn’t feel out of place at all. Jumping and singing by myself (with a confused but calm dad next to me) was the funniest phenomenon. Eventually, I got around to losing my head with the girl next to me, who appeared closer to my age range. For the second half of the show, I practically ignored my dad.
It turned out that she and I were quite similar. We were both in the same year, both only recently coming across this band, and with little to no knowledge of Korean. Though our mother tongues were different, we somehow got our points across anyway. Among those years of high school, I think she was the first friend I had made outside of school, and all on my own.
II
For the longest time after my friend and I adopted our cats, we had been waiting for the opportunity to make them meet. One summer out of boredom, I finally brought mine, Darcy (where could the name be from…), over to hers.
My friend’s cat, Munzai (蚊仔, which, funnily, translates to “mosquito boy”), is a bit of a wimp, so it was up to Darcy to take the ride over. My friend’s mum used to broadcast a saying she made up to laugh at Munzai’s wimpy-ness, that he’s a “dragon at home, but a worm outside” (屋企一條龍 出去就一條蟲). He’s a hyperactive cat that can play at any hour of the day, and has lengthy, in depth conversations about hobbies, politics, and housekeeping knowledge with my friend’s mum.
Darcy, on the other hand, is the most relaxed cat regardless of his environment. He occasionally takes interest in new things that we bring home from outside, and toys that hang from strings, but can lose interest quite fast. He fancies stinky canned food (for cats), fish, and milk, and takes ridiculous delight in chomping mango. He isn’t awfully active, but always prefers to stay as close as possible to us. Darcy’s generally a calm guy, he sleeps most of the time, and isn’t usually too bothered even when we’re banging about at home.
All the months that led up to their meeting, my friend and I anticipated the beautiful friendship that would potentially blossom. How would they react? How would they interact? Will they play together? Would they be interested in each other? So many questions, yet so little answers.
When we let Darcy out of his bag after the long ride, he started exploring the house, with Munzai following close behind. It didn’t take long to sniff each room; soon enough he found a cosy spot (i.e. Munzai’s usual sleeping spot) to fall asleep. Meanwhile, Munzai was figuratively peeing in his pants, because he was so nervous that Darcy showed up to take over his turf. Munzai didn’t sleep the entire afternoon – he was too busy watching his new best friend – and when Darcy left in the evening, Munzai relieved himself in one of his family member’s beds. This was the first and last encounter of a beautiful friendship.
III
Over the past 1-2 years, I’ve forgotten about weird SpongeBob. The clothes I’ve worn most recently are always at the top, pushing weird SpongeBob further and further from my view. My fashion sense is also changing, and I’ve been rapidly clearing out my wardrobe, giving away items that I don’t use anymore.
The t-shirt in question made a recent reappearance while I was clearing out my closet, but I couldn’t get rid of it, even though my mum requested for me to do so. I am possibly justifying myself now, but maybe I keep it because I shook the Korean band members’ hands in it; the shirt has just about breathed the same air as they have. Maybe I keep it because SpongeBob simply looks different. Not to mention, it was an undoubtedly comfortable shirt, and was quite easy to put on. Nonetheless, I know for sure that I won’t use it again; the wear it has been through is rather detectable.
I did manage to clear out a lot of things, but (whether my mom knows it or not) the shirt still hangs out in my closet, albeit in the back where I no longer see it every day. It’s just one of the garments that is now too childish to wear, yet, even though I try, I can’t Marie-Kondo it out of my drawer.
