Ever since I graduated from college, I’ve had a few shelves in a closet that contained seemingly-forgotten-about clothes:
They’re clothes that are definitely not fashionable, for many different reasons: they’re much too baggy, they’re not the right color, they have rips in them, they’re stained, they’re outdated. On first glance, one might assume I’m a hoarder when it comes to clothes. “Good gracious!” one might exclaim. “Why in the world hasn’t Violet donated these yet?!?”
I never reach for anything on those shelves when I’m looking for something to look good in–something flattering. So why do I even have these clothes if they look like they’re from a stylish girl’s nightmare?
I’ll tell you why: because these clothes serve a very important purpose. I do reach for them. Not often, that’s true, but I do reach for them. When I do reach for them, you know something awesome is about to happen. Only these clothes specifically get to experience the awesomeness with me.
These are my adventure clothes. They have seen me through many momentous occasions: times of adrenaline rushes and times of leisure; quiet, reflective times and loud times where I didn’t have time to think. These clothes are the ones that I don’t mind getting dirty or wet or torn because I don’t have an attachment to them. They’re the paper plates of my wardrobe, meant to be used and perhaps dropped and not given a second thought when they’re thrown away or set on fire, as opposed to the fine china that are my favorite dresses and dry clean only coats. They’re my clothing military, put on the front lines to do all the dirty work so as to protect my other precious clothes from harm.
The reason why my adventure closet is a little empty is because, as I’ve mentioned before, I just got back from Banff. Not only that, but right before the Banff trip, I went on the annual weekend camping trip with friends and family that we go on to celebrate my and husband’s wedding anniversary. So it’s missing quite a bit, as I haven’t done all the laundry from those trips yet.
So today I’d like to pay homage to the clothes in my adventure closet, since they deserve as much respect and time in the sun as the clothes that I reach for time and time again:
Dressed up for an 80s-themed reading by one of my very favorite authors, Jen Lancaster. Note the side pony, neon accessories, leggings, socks, and YES, that IS a slap bracelet!
With my mother-in-law on a Mother’s Day bike ride.
(seen here as an under layer, paired with my periwinkle hoodie): See that grassy hill behind me? Yeah, this was me when I was about 27 or 28, decades from the last time I rolled down a hill. But I saw that hill and I was DETERMINED to roll down it. So here I am, post-roll. It was amazing, guys. Simply amazing.
(seen above, too!)
This year during our annual anniversary camping trip, in front of the venue where we were wed (can’t really see it here; it’s sorta hidden).
Turquoise fleece sweatshirt:
Me on my hardest and most epic snowshoe to date. That grimace on my face was because I didn’t think I would make it to the top (it turned into hand-over-foot climbing, y’all). But I did! 🙂
On my way to snowboarding. In case you’re wondering, I do have a little bit of a black eye in this picture, because my clumsy self managed to accidentally drop the corner plexiglass cube square on my face. Ouch.
Gray & Lavender Roxy Jacket:
Just as an aside, I absolutely love this jacket. I think I’ve had it ever since I was in the 11th grade (except it was baggy on me back then instead of kinda tight), and it keeps me dry and warm like no other jacket I’ve ever had since. I coveted it when I was in high school because I’d always wanted a Roxy jacket and I was so ecstatic when I saw one in my favorite color on sale and in my size. It was fate, I tell you.
On a recent trip that my hubby treated me to so I could enjoy the snow I so craved (we didn’t get much this year)! So sweet.
During last year’s road trip to sand dunes! Such a magnificent experience.
On a snowshoe trip that I took in honor of a tragic death in our community. Tying a ribbon around a tree in remembrance.
Thank you, adventure clothes. Though you may seem forgotten about, you never really are. You’ll have a special place in my closet, and heart, for years to come.