I've never liked that shirt. For one, it's orange. That should be enough of a reason, really, to just walk on by anything in the store. Nobody looks good in orange. Well, maybe redheads, and I'm pretty sure it was a gift from Shawn's Mom, total redhead. She can pull off this color, so she must have figured he could, too. He has red tones in his hair, I guess, and sometimes when he doesn't shave for awhile, his beard looks sort of red. That must be why he gets away with not looking all peachy like most people would. Two, it's massive. Total roominess and he's in love. I've washed it a lot, and ironed it, but for the past several years, it's dry clean only since the guy wears it so much and I have other stuff to do. It's a fancy Tommy Bahama and holding up great (no, there's not a pina colada on the back). On the way home last night I asked him what he thought he might do if one day, someday, maybe, just possibly, the shirt is no longer with us.
He just shook his head and looked sort of lost.
No comments:
Post a Comment