New Clothes
Millions of children, including my kindergarten-bound nephew, go back to school today. For many of them, that means putting on never-worn shirts, jeans, and shoes. Crisp clothes than take the edge off of not knowing who your teacher is, if you have any friends in your class, and if you will get a good cubbyhole/desk/locker.
My mom always took me shopping a week or two before the big day. She never prohibited me from wearing my new threads before the first day of school but would remind me, if you wear it now it won't be new. She kept the new clothes and shoes "hidden" in the hallway closet. I loved to take the clothes out of the bag and touch the fabric, considering which shirt I should wear first. I loved to slide the lid off the shoebox and fold back the tissue paper and examine the perfectly new shoes.
It was a yearly ritual - willing myself NOT to wear the precious new things - that ended in tenth grade when on the first day of school a peer wore a pair of dirty black hi-top converse. I was stunned. Didn't everybody have new clothes to wear on the first day of school? The joy of an entirely new outfit, from undies to socks, faded. Maybe there were more important things in life. Or maybe style didn't always come from new things.
