As I completed my purchase and watched yet another Breton striped t-shirt being wrapped in tissue paper and slid into a bag in preparation for the journey to its final resting place (otherwise known as my closet) I realized that, even looking at things charitably, I might have a problem. After all, the repetitive acquisition of minutely varying examples of what are, essentially, the same item and the accompanying rationalizations (in this instance, that the long sleeves, tissue thin weight, and slightly over-sized fit added a level of studied nonchalance that was slightly lacking from the twenty or so other examples currently residing in my t-shirt drawer) cannot be viewed as entirely healthy behavior.
As much as I’d like to claim that I’m on the sort of quixotic quest usually undertaken by knights of yore, there’s a niggling doubt that anyone will really buy the argument. The aforementioned knights, after all, were generally involved in large-scale, heroic missions involving the slaying of rampaging dragons and rescuing maidens who had unaccountably found themselves locked in towers. Something that rather puts my own pursuit (that of probably unattainable perfection and “just right-ness” in striped cotton form) somewhat in the shade….
