Copy Catting

I'll be honest. This blog only exists because my sister started one and after reading hers, I decided I wanted one, too. It's a bit of a role-reversal for us. See, she's the younger sister. All our lives, she's been the one wanting to do what I'm doing. Or wear what I'm wearing. Let's take a deeper look at this second issue. I like to think of it as The Case of the Disappearing Clothing. (I was a huge Nancy Drew fan, so I'm inclined to title things in the fashion of those books.)

Now, I've always been interested in clothes. I like to consider myself "fashionable." I don't trend-chase too much - partly due to my limited clothing budget - but I do like to look like some thought has gone into what I'm wearing. Looking back at grade school yearbook photos, a stranger would probably not get this about me. But at the time, all of my clothing choices felt spot on. And, let's keep in mind that some of those pictures will be from the '80s. Moving on, not only did I believe I was a good dresser. My little sister backed me up. If I wore it, she wanted to wear it. This obviously presents a problem. She was the little sister. We should not be seen wearing the same stuff. It's only slightly less embarassing than wearing the same thing at the same time!

Eventually she caught on to my hesitance to share and decided to get sneaky. This is where I began to have a real problem with her learning to think for herself. Clothing items would not be where I left them - be it in a drawer, on a hanger, or in a strategically placed pile on the floor of my bedroom. Then, mysteriously, they would reappear several days later. Often with a brand new stain of some sort. Occasionally, I'd have to go on a scavenger hunt in order to retrieve the missing item. Thank goodness my parents were there to lay down the law and make her stop.

Wrong.

They were no help. "Settle it amongst yourselves." I should have made them t-shirts so they could wear what became their problem-solving slogan. Except my sister probably would have snagged those, too. Finally, she was old enough to get a job and start spending her own money. I thought the days of wondering where all my favorite clothes had gone were over. True, things slowed down a little. But my sister is a smart cookie. What's the point in spending money on clothes when there's a full closet just down the hall? At least by this time, we were closer in sizes and I could start returning the favor. Now that the playing field was a bit more even, the issue didn't seem so traumatizing. She was also getting better at keeping my things as stain-free as she found them.

It's been awhile since we've lived under the same roof, and the subject of her taking my clothes has become a source of humor rather than complaint. Much like the subject of me trying to leave her on the neighbor's doorstep when she was a baby. These days I sort of miss having her close enough to sneak things away, leaving my closet just rummaged enough that I know something is missing but can't quite put a finger on it. It is, as my parents tried to tell me, a type of flattery. And it proves she's got great taste.