A sweater from a Bulgarian secondhand shop. The yellow vest that saved my life while cycling to Istanbul. A crochet blanket made by a south Italian granny.

Each of these items would have never been worn by myself again, if I am very honest. I would have still kept them though.

Makes no sense?

Every time I would pick up that red oversized sweater, I would remember the day I picked it up. Strolling through Sofia, Bulgarias capital, after we had survived the busy roads to get in. At the time I decided the time for black hoodies was over, so I was looking for a replacement.
That new secondhand sweater had accompanied me all the way to Istanbul and further. Many times I appreciated wearing that bright red fabric, reflecting my mood and covering my body.

How could I ever get rid of it? Even though I didn’t wear it in a few weeks and would probably less and less in all the days to come.

As I pack my backpack, sorting out what I really need, my yellow vest slides through my hands. You don’t need a yellow vest if you aren’t cycling! Adding to that, those vests are probably the most unattractive pice of “clothing” that exists.

How many times did I look at my reflection, wondering how just a yellow vest could make me look that stupid?

But then I think back of all the busy roads, tunnels and motorways I have been cycling on. Maybe only the fact that I am still alive only depends on me, wearing that piece of yellow and reflective stripes. Can I really get rid of the garment that saved my life? Even though I will probably never wear it again?

On a Saturday morning market in the south of Italy I pull a crochet blanket out of a pile of fabric. Bright coloured thread hocked together in some of the neighbouring villages, by someones grandmother. How could I not appreciate the craft and dedication in this shawl? Even though I would probably never wear it as such. A souvenir for the time I spent here.

I took them all apart.

And sewed them back together.

Reflective strips, because we love them.

A two piece, because they are fun.

Cropped sweater. Shorts. And socks.

Sport meets old fashion.

Will I go for a run in that outfit? Or walk my dog in Central Park?

A coffee in Paris? Or yoga in the countryside?

Bulgarian sweater, life saving jacked and Italian craft.

Interwoven memories.

Cheers for stopping by. Enjoy your Monday!

All photos and words are my own, taken and written by myself ©kesityu.