This is all one topic. I wish I were better at titles. This title problem has been a long-term affliction. Indeed, of all the papers I've written, only two titles were good: one for a graduate student paper on John Donne's poetry, the other an article on Edmund Spenser's sonnet sequence, the Amoretti.
I digress. With a pang, I just placed a pair of Armani pants in the donation bag. These are the real thing, Armani Collezione, beautiful olive wool crepe, fabulous detailing. Sadly, there are a few tiny moth holes.
Don't shed too many tears. I bought these a few years ago, with a new dry-cleaning label, at a thrift for under $3.00. These were for Frugal Son, in case he needed dress pants. As it happened, the only occasions where he wore dress pants were his proms, to which he sported a tuxedo and all the usual trimmings, all the booty of a year-long look-out undertaken by Frugal Mom (me). I have a post on this somewhere or other. Needless to say, the tux outfit required black pants.
Also needless to say, moths like the most expensive clothing. I keep things clean, and even brush items, but, like me, moths always choose the most exquisite fabrics.
The only reason I'm donating the pants is that someone--maybe--can use the fabric or the expensive zippers and buttons. Or even fix them--the holes are almost imperceptible.
Stress relief times two. First, because we had the pants in case Frugal Son needed them. It is SOOOO stressful to have to run to the store because of a sudden need: this is always expensive and often time-consuming. So this is another example of prophylactic shopping I wrote about a while ago: shopping to PREVENT shopping.
Second, because if the item gets ruined, no big deal. This was especially critical when my kids were younger. Although my fantasy was to have my children dressed in Euro-style clothing a la the Hanna Andersson catalog, they generally wore very nice clothing from various thrift stores. I usually went to the then-wonderful shop run by the Junior League in New Orleans, where I could find the occasional Petit Bateau item I craved.
What a relief though when the inevitable stain or snag occurred. I could just say (continuing the Euro-theme), "Tant pis!" Let's toss it. And I can pull out another backup item.
And it's not just children who stain and snag. Although I am often criticized for wearing too much black, I have noticed that when I wear a light color, especially white, I tend to spill an entire cup of coffee on my front.
Tant pis, I say once more.