Clothing. The bane of my existence.
It must have been 2003 or 2004. I was in a trip with my mother to celebrate my birthday, and it was particular enough that we went to a beach in a part of the country that I had never been to, and that was alien enough that it felt almost as if we were in one of the many beaches in the southern parts of the United States. I remember it well because this was one of the first times that I consciously picked clothing for myself out of random stores that we stumbled across the way: 2 Hawaii shirts with predominantly black colors, and one black shirt that had a flaming frog in the middle.
Going back home I was thrilled to wear this shirt whenever I could: It was so black and the cut fit me so well! Whenever I could I would wear this shirt, and so began the collection of black shirts.
It started being mostly random as I would buy any black shirt I could find, and it only started being very specific once I started going to concerts of bands that I liked: My shirts would get darker in themes by the minute, with the exceptions of the typical metalhead shirt for a Power Metal band or something similarly optimistic.
Fast forward to 2008 and I own nothing but band shirts, and something around 20 of them. Every day I wear a different black band shirt, out of which only one is not black.I am a typical teenager who listens to really dark music and dresses in denim jeans with black shirts. I was also growing my hair at this time and not being particularly picky about primping at any point whatsoever.
Band shirts eventually became too niche for what I was, since I was moving away from my adolescent close mind-ness and more into really enjoying different types of music. Music that albeit still relatively dark, was different from one song by one artist to the next. Not wanting to belong to anything, I moved to the Horror movie shirt niche.
And this is mostly a story about black shirts.
8 years have gone by since my wardrobe was dyed fully in black, and I am at a point in life where I am surprisingly picky of what I wear without being overly obsessed about my clothes. I picked a simple dressing code based on wearing the same pair of black tactical/adventure jeans (bought 6 pairs of the exact same model in the same color), and only use shirts ranging from black to any scale of grey — keeping tabs on my Cayce Pollard units — and have never been happier.
Often times I wonder what my daily life would be if I dressed differently, or if I ever adhered to a code other than simplicity for the sake of not being overly colourful.
And maybe, just maybe, I would feel exactly the same way if I dressed in nothing but white all the time.