There was a time, sixteen years ago (I was 14), when my living space (shared with my brother at that time) was clean and totally dust-free. My garments were organised according to (firstly) the type of textile and (secondly) to the colour. It’s not like I’ve always liked fashion, but rather to look neat in tidy surroundings.
So, fifteen years ago, during ordinary X-mas shopping with my father, something called my name. A winter jacket. It wasn’t cheap, but I had to have it, so I proposed a deal to my Dad, that I would wear it until I graduate from Uni. And then my curse started. All those 15 years later, I am still wearing this jacket, therefore, you can imagine that my education still lasts. Nevertheless, after such a long time with my oldest piece of garment, to let it go and buy another one – seems incomprehensible to me. So, am I really cursed, or am I just sentimental ?