This may be yet another indication of my neurotic tendancies but...I have a problem with people touching my clothing. You know how it is; you're wearing something soft and suddenly people are rubbing you like you're a lucky rabbit's foot.

I appreciate the interest but I’m sure they’ve touched fabric before so why the reflex action? This isn’t a signal of intimacy issues, I just wonder what they touched beforehand. Is that the residue of lunch that you are wiping off on my sweater? Are your palms sweating as you caress my suede handbag? Did I see you just change a toner cartridge?

To illustrate the depths of my mania, here is a cautionary tale.

I once bought a rather expensive coat at Nicole Fahri; it was loose, fell below-the-knee and was made from a soft, pale grey lambswool and angora mix. The first winter I wore it I drove people insane. I wouldn’t sit down on the bus or train during my commute in case someone had spilled something on the seat. I avoided people with beverages or food like they had the plague. I finally realized that I had gone over the edge when I brought a garment bag in to work and reverently placed the coat in it each morning…”just in case”.

I maintained this manic behavior for the entire winter. By the next winter I had relaxed my vigilance. The coat was still beautiful, but there were newer coats to be cherished and cared for. Then it dawned on me, "saving" something for so long that it goes out of fashion isn't the point. Clothes will fade and tear and lose their shape...but the memories of what you did when you wore them or how you felt...those will last forever.