My Big Grey Sweater.

I have this sweater. It's Dockers. It's enormous. And it has this really terribly pale grey colour. The sweater doesn't do anything for me. When I put it on, it flows out, it gives me no shape. It doesn't really keep me that warm. It doesn't even look that great on me, some may even say it ruins my outfits. But I think I'd be genuinely sad if I lost the sweater.

It used to be my mums. She didn't really pull it off either, but she wore it because it was practical and she liked it. After years, it kind of hid itself shyly under her heaps of colourful flower fabric clothing. And when she found it, the familiarity was just too overwhelming she had to wear it again. This is where, I come in. I like taking clothes from my mum's closet. I have this very sneaky way of doing so when she's at work. So this trip was just like any other.

I found it and thought 'It's was grey, it'll match anything I have.' So I took it, and I wore it. Only then, had I found out about the sweater's curse, making it's owners look the most unappealing. But I began to find the sentiment behind it. You see, the sweater was invisible. This big grey piece of sloppily sewn fabric could envelop anyone in secrecy. If anyone felt like they were having a bad hair day or their outfit was hideous or even if they felt like they just wanted to fall off the face of the earth, they could turn to this sweater.

It's stressed fabric had seen the ends of time. It had seen the rainy days, the bad days, and the days where you just wanted to die. In someways it was a refuge. It was a house, sheltering you from everyone's eye. It was a comforting companion, holding you when just wanted to hide and not waste any effort in looking pretty. It was a lazy day that begged not to be dressed.

It even holds memories. When you sniff the right sleeve, it has a faint dried fish smell that reminds me of home, the Philippines. The hood smells like musty stale rain and dried up sun. The bottom has several bleach spots and when you actually open the sweater, it has several stains inside. Every thread and stain had seen everything I had gone through and it had helped me through it.

So, this morning. When I felt like today wasn't going to be a good day. When I was too tired to look pretty. When I was missing home, I put on the sweater and I lay in bed. Because all I need is that to see me through. I don't need to talk to my mother or my friends. I just need a sense of familiarity and a little bit of security. That sweater was everything and it still is.