You're never too old for hand-me-downs

Sometimes I'm glad I didn't have an older brother. If I did, I know I would have never worn a new article of clothing. Nonetheless, my mom still trafficked most of my clothes down from older cousins or neighbors.

I'm sure my parent's thrift had a lot to do with that, but so did the way I treated my clothes. In less than half an hour of recess I could blow a hole in both the knees of my pants and have grasshopper guts on the front of my shirt. Buying me a new pair of Levi's would have been like giving a white suit to a chimney sweeper.

Now that I'm done growing, and so are the people I associate with, I don't see many hand-me-down exchanges. After childhood, if someone gives over a hand-me-down it's usually not because they got taller... it's because they got wider.

The other way to get a hand-me-down, though, is if the previous owner doesn't think it's in fashion anymore. That's where I come in.

A couple weeks ago my wife and I were visiting my wife's family. Her uncle was ready to get rid of a fine corduroy suit with leather elbow patches, and I was ready to acquire a fine corduroy suit--with leather elbow patches.

The thing is, I know it's a darn-good suit. It's been around for at least 25 years but is still holding up like a champ. Those suckers buying a suit down at Men's Wearhouse only know their suit has made it through a couple trips to the dressing room.

I suppose the biggest qualm people have about taking ownership of a hand-me-down or thrift store clothing item is not knowing where it's been. How do you think new clothes feel, not knowing where their wearers have been?

Whatever the case, I've never grown out of ruining my clothes (you should see me after a spaghetti dinner, I can give a white shirt polka-dots). But that's something I'm going to have to change. If I blow a hole in the knee of my "new" corduroy suit pants, I'll have to wait another 25 years before something that good shows up in my wife's uncle's closet again.