curious george has dyed

i had a lingerie shower before my wedding, and for a 21-year-old from a tiny town in north carolina, it was an overwhelming abundance of lace, straps and snaps. and i loved it. and i packed it all into my tiny samsonite when we left for our honeymoon in jamaica.

but then, somebody else snuck into my bag as well. george.

i've had these shorts since the seventh grade. middle school, i tell you! i got them on my family's first and only trip to disney world. the summer it was so blazing hot that even a water spritzer with a fan on it couldn't cool me down. the trip where i rode the rockin' roller coaster with mama and the initial jolt threw my hips forward so bad i couldn't walk straight the rest of the time. the happiest place on earth, i say.

and i saw these bad boys hanging in the gift shop. they were overpriced. they were cartoonish. heck, with the two buttons in the front they were most certainly for boys. but i had to have them. and i've worn them every single night since. george traveled with me through high school, and was there in bed when i cried myself to sleep over boys that didn't last, tests that didn't end well, and that one two-week fight with robert in july 2007.

they went with me to college. and my first apartment. then, on my honeymoon. after that, i stored them in my very first chest of drawers in my very first home with my new husband and our new dog.

but last week, i did something awful.

i washed george with a new pair of red jeans. some fabulous red jeans i found in a thrift store, but that's beside the fact.

and george turned pink. how can george save the world from outer space invaders when he's traveling through a sphere of pastel rose? it just doesn't fit. i've washed and washed them, and the stain is starting to fade, and from the looks of these pictures, it's not too bad. 

but they still bring me comfort. like reading my Bible in bed at night or waking up and stretching outside with the sunrise. and the best part of all? robert thinks they're cute.

and whatever it is that makes you feel like you--whether its your boyfriend's oversized sweater, your favorite pair of skinny jeans, your favorite sweatpants, or even a lacy get-up, it's worth holding on to. worth washing and re-washing and stretching out the elastic and literally getting all you can out of the threads.

and worth writing an entire post about, apparently.