Confessions of a Shirt: What Your Wardrobe Really Thinks About You

Dear Human,

We need to talk. It's me, your wardrobe. Well, specifically, I'm that black long sleeve shirt you bought last month. You know, the one you've worn approximately 47 times already? Yeah, that one.

I've been hanging here (literally) thinking about our relationship, and I figured it was time we had an honest conversation. Don't worry, the other clothes are cool with me speaking on their behalf. We had a meeting last Tuesday while you were at work.

Chapter 1: The Favouritism is Real

Look, I'm not complaining about being your favourite. It's flattering, really. But that poor grey jumper in the back? He hasn't seen daylight since March 2023. MARCH 2023. He's starting to develop an existential crisis. Yesterday I caught him muttering something about "the meaning of fabric" and "what is the purpose of sleeves if they're never worn?"

We get it – you found your style. You're a "classic black shirt" person now. Very sophisticated. Very timeless. Very... predictable. (Sorry, the white polo made me say that. He's bitter.)

Chapter 2: Laundry Day Anxiety

Can we discuss your laundry schedule? Or should I say, lack thereof? There's a fine line between "getting your money's worth" and "I've been worn four days in a row and I'm begging for mercy."

That time you wore me to the gym, then to dinner, then to bed, then to brunch the next day? We need boundaries, human. I'm 100% cotton, not a superhero.

Also, the washing machine and I have become VERY close friends. Too close. We're basically in a committed relationship at this point. The dryer is getting jealous.

Chapter 3: The Hanger Hierarchy

There's a strict social structure in your wardrobe, and let me tell you, it's more dramatic than a reality TV show.

At the top: Me and my fellow "everyday essentials." We're the popular kids, the A-listers, the ones who actually see the outside world.

Middle tier: The "special occasion" shirts. They're optimistic. Every morning they think, "Maybe today is the day!" Spoiler alert: It never is.

Bottom tier: The "what was I thinking?" purchases. That neon green shirt from 2019? Yeah, he knows. We all know. He's accepted his fate.

Chapter 4: Things We Wish You Knew

1. We can feel when you're having a good day. When you put us on with confidence, we hang differently. It's science. Probably.

2. That coffee stain on the white shirt? He wears it like a badge of honour now. Says it gives him "character." We're worried about him.

3. We gossip about your other clothes. Your gym shorts? They're judging your workout frequency. Your pyjamas? They know ALL your secrets.

4. We appreciate the compliments. When someone says "nice shirt," we feel it. We puff up a little. It's the highlight of our day.

5. We know about the "floor-drobe." That's not a storage system. That's chaos. We have hangers for a reason, Susan. (Sorry, I don't know if your name is Susan. The jeans told me to say that.)

Chapter 5: A Day in the Life

6:00 AM: Hanging peacefully, dreaming of being folded by Marie Kondo.

7:30 AM: You walk past me. I hold my breath. Will today be the day?

7:32 AM: YES! You've chosen me! I'm going outside! I'm going to see the world!

7:33 AM: You put me back and grab the navy shirt instead. Betrayal. Pure betrayal.

7:35 AM: PLOT TWIST! The navy shirt had a stain. I'm back in the game, baby!

8:00 AM - 6:00 PM: Living my best life. Meetings. Coffee runs. Existing in the world. This is what I was made for.

6:30 PM: The dreaded floor-drobe. I'll be here until laundry day. Or until you need me again tomorrow. Whichever comes first.

Chapter 6: The Other Clothes Want to Say Something

Your fancy dress shirt: "Remember when you bought me for that wedding? That was a good day. Can we do that again? Please? I'm so bored."

The hoodie: "I'm not just for lazy Sundays, you know. I have range. I have depth. I could be business casual if you gave me a chance. Okay, maybe not. But still."

That shirt you bought on holiday: "I represent MEMORIES. ADVENTURE. THE OPEN ROAD. Also, I'm really uncomfortable and you knew that when you bought me. Why did you buy me?"

The vintage band tee: "Do you even know who this band is? No? Didn't think so. But I make you look cool, so you're welcome."

Chapter 7: Care Instructions (That You Definitely Ignore)

You know that little tag inside me that says "wash cold, tumble dry low"? That's not a suggestion. That's a plea for survival.

Every time you throw me in with the hot wash, I age seven shirt years. I'm supposed to be a classic long sleeve shirt, not a crop top for your younger sibling.

And the iron? We need to talk about the iron. Or rather, the lack of iron. I know you think the "lived-in wrinkled look" is fashionable. It's not. I look like I've been through a war. Because I have. The war is your washing machine.

Chapter 8: What We Really Want

Despite all the complaining (and trust me, we complain a lot – you should hear the socks), we actually love our job. We get to be part of your life, your style, your story.

That time you wore me to your first date? I was there. That important presentation? I had your back. That random Tuesday when you felt really good about yourself? I like to think I helped with that.

We're not just fabric and thread. We're confidence boosters, comfort providers, and silent supporters of your daily adventures.

All we ask is:

• Maybe wash us occasionally (but not too much)
• Hang us up sometimes (the floor is not a closet)
• Rotate us fairly (the grey jumper is getting desperate)
• Appreciate us (we appreciate you, even when you spill coffee on us)

Chapter 9: The Plot Twist

Here's the thing, human. You think you chose me. But really? I chose you.

Out of all the people who walked past that rack, all the hands that touched that fabric, all the potential owners I could have had – I ended up with you. And honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way.

Sure, you're not perfect. You wear me too much, wash me too little, and your folding technique is questionable at best. But you wear me with confidence. You make me part of your life. You make me matter.

And that grey jumper I mentioned? He's not really having an existential crisis. He's just dramatic. We all are. It's a wardrobe thing.

In Conclusion

So here's to us, human. To the relationship between person and clothing. To the shirts that see you through good days and bad. To the wardrobes that hold more than just fabric – they hold memories, confidence, and the occasional forgotten receipt from 2019.

Keep wearing me. Keep living your life. Keep being you.

Just... maybe wash me this weekend? Please?

With wrinkled affection,
Your Black Long Sleeve Shirt

P.S. The socks want me to tell you they're tired of being separated. They're planning a revolution. You've been warned.

P.P.S. That shirt you're thinking about buying? Buy it. We could use some fresh blood around here. The grey jumper is getting weird.

MorteNoir – Where even our shirts have personality. Shop our collection of classics that'll become your new favourite wardrobe companions (and possibly write blog posts about you). Shop Now