Sunday, November 13

My collection of boy's clothing has expanded, thanks to a contribution by my gay boyfriend Steve. He came up on Thursday night for a two-day visit and left behind two pairs of socks. (As well as a whirlwind of debauchery, but that's a whole other story...)

I always steal Steve's socks, despite the fact that he has massive feet. I don't care that wearing them means they will bunch up around my ankles within five minutes of walking. Or that I can't fit my feet into tiny shoes when I have them on. They're comfy and I love them, just like I love all my other items of procured boy's clothing.

Is it wrong that I still wear my ex-boyfriend's well-worn dress shirt as a nightgown? It's been just about three years since we broke up, but I can't give up the shirt. And I don't wear it to remind me of him, but there is a certain comfort that comes from being able to curl up in the ripped and faded blue cotton.

Other than loving boy clothing for the redic size it comes in, I also try and claim used items as my own for the smell. It's lovely to be wrapped in something that smells like the guy you adore. But unfortunately socks are the one thing which, under no circumstances, should be kept for the smell. (And so, I will be doing laundry tonight.) Rather, I need to find someone to steal yummier items of clothing from.