My son needed an art smock for Grade 1 this year so I packed him off to school with one of his dad's old shirts. When I was in Grade 1, my mum did the same. This poor excuse for a shirt that you see above was my Dad's old work shirt. I was quite short so mum had to cut the tails off and hem it for me. I used it as my art shirt all through primary school and when it came time to leave in Grade 7 I had everyone I could pin down sign it for me.
I had a pretty good go of it at primary school and was genuinely sad to be finishing. Looking at the names and messages I could still read on the shirt brought back happy memories but there were names there that mean not a thing now. It felt good to throw this one in the wheelie bin. For so many years I kept this shirt, moving it from place to place with me.
Re finding these things, photographing them, letting them go - some things are easier than others. This one was easy.
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