That perfectly worn-in band tee is a reward for dealing with a cheating ex.
The vintage-devoted, SSENSE-sale-stalking, eBay bidding oracles know the value of a perfectly worn-in band tee — and they’re not about to let a bad breakup ruin a good outfit. For some, a reminder of heartache pales in comparison to a piece’s coolness value. For others, items left behind are a way to fund a shopping spree. Keeping clothing perfumed with memories of lovers past can be an active practice in detachment and a spiritual challenge well worth a wardrobe staple.
Moving on after a breakup looks different for everyone, but the fashionably inclined can agree on one thing: the clothing and accessories you acquire during the relationship are a consolation prize for heartbreak, and if it’s cool enough, you’re keeping it. So what is there to do with the fashion that’s been left behind? All is fair in love and war — especially if it’s Prada.
River Takada, a textiles artist and teacher who obsesses over fiber quality, describes a particularly unique threadbare camouflage T-shirt from an ex as an “archival” piece in her wardrobe. In the face of good vintage, all the pain washes away. “I can identify that this shirt — perfectly worn-in — transcends that,” Takada says. “It's worth more to me than the memories are.”
When Ashley Novak, vintage aficionado and foodie behind Tart n’ Savory, rediscovered a briefly lost band tee from an ex, it felt like a “reclamation.” The Minor Threat T-shirt has a perfect vintage feel, she says — it’s worn in, it’s soft, it’s cut in the right places. The shirt was forgotten, the ex was forgotten, and when it reappeared, it became a new shirt. “I don't think about this person ever, sometimes not even when I wear the T-shirt,” she says. “It's become a neutralized object.”
It’s one of many T-shirts she’s kept from exes (a couple of which are so vintage they belonged to her ex-partner’s parents), and they hail mostly from relationships with people she’d rather forget. Novak likened the experience to an injury lawsuit ad: “If you dated this loser, you are entitled to keep their mom's cool T-shirt.”
Kayla Roolaart, homeware buyer and author of the design-centered newsletter No Crumbs, uses a similar metaphor. Like the touristy T-shirt your aunt might bring back from her trip to Florida, Roolaart says, “I just think of, ‘I was in a shitty relationship and all I got was a great T-shirt.”
When Roolaart’s ex moved out of their Bushwick abode, she rid the apartment of any stylistic traces of him (de-boy-ifying the bedroom was a top priority). All that remains are the sartorial survivors piling up in the closet: a button-down he never wore, gifts from holidays past, and a baby blue nylon Prada bag — fairly earned rewards for emotional turmoil. Additions to your closet might be the only thing worth saving from a nasty breakup.
Despite a sour ending to the years-long relationship, the button-down he left behind stays in her regular rotation. “I'm willing to forgive and forget that for the object,” she says. “I'm not going to take it out on the shirt. What am I gonna do? Put it on trial?” Life lesson: toss the boyfriend, keep the shirt.
Roolaart also realized post-breakup that many of the pieces she acquired throughout the relationship weren’t exactly her — if anything, the expensive gifts he gave her seemed like attempts at stroking his own ego, she says. The button-down was a major score, but the Prada bag (in a style she’d never reach for) sits in the closet serving a more lucrative purpose than holding lip gloss, Roolaart says: “It’s also my in-case-of-emergency fund.”
For those whose exes never quite nailed your taste, a closet purge might be exactly what the fashion doctor ordered. A local consignment store has surely heard your story before, according to Sarah Jones, who worked as a buyer at Buffalo Exchange for seven years. Multiple people came in every day looking to sell their ex’s clothes, she says, and the person you hand them to understands you might need to vent. As a consignment buyer, “you're basically somebody’s therapist half the time.”
Jones is also the proud owner of a 1990 Cocteau Twins single-stitch tee she won in a breakup, “like a reward for me for wasting my time,” she says. She was shocked her ex didn’t put up more of a fight over an item she considers to be a holy grail. “Clothing was definitely my whole life,” Jones says. “I was like, how could you not want and appreciate this? He'd just be like, it's just clothing to me.”
While a consignment cash bonus might feel good in the moment, fashion journalist and host of the Pre-Loved Podcast Emily Stohl advises fighting against the urge to throw away all reminders of an ex. Rather, she suggests storing the items until the wound isn’t so fresh. This is also advice prescribed by TV’s favorite single mom, Lorelai Gilmore, who coined it “the boyfriend box.”
As Lorelai explains to Rory in Season 1 Episode 21 of Gilmore Girls, a boyfriend box serves to store the sentimental items you might toss in a fit of rage and tears after a breakup. You pack it up, stick it in a closet, and wait until the time comes when it’s no longer so painful. “You’re going to want that stuff one day when you’re old and married and looking back and thinking, ‘I certainly had an interesting life,’” Lorelai says. “I threw away stuff I’d kill to have today.” The only surefire remedy to heartbreak is time. With time, and the wound fully healed, those reminders of the past aren’t reminders of pain, they’re reminders of a rich life.
When Roolaart relegated her ex’s items to a corner of the closet, she didn’t do so hoping to avoid all the pain. “I think we do a disservice if we only keep memories from things that were joyful and discard everything that was painful, because it's just a part of your life, and you can't only keep the things that don't hurt,” Roolaart says. She’s ok keeping some of the painful things around. “I don't want to completely erase bits of my life,” she says. “This isn't Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I can deal with some of the ugly bits.”
After all, entangling sentiment in our wardrobes is unavoidable. We constantly obsess over the emotional attachment to items of clothing, Stohl points out, even subconsciously. Whether it be a sweater purchased abroad that you reach for on a bad day to lift your mood or the football jersey your dad refuses to wash during the regular season for good luck, we afford our clothing far more depth than what can be felt in the fibers.
“We do this all the time with our clothes, right?” she says. “We add so much more — which is something that I love about fashion — but we add so much more to the clothing than just what it is and what it looks like.”
And for the items that conjure up painful memories for now, there’s always time for the narrative to change. “Maybe that band T-shirt that you kept from your last relationship could end up being the awesome vintage band T-shirt that you're wearing the next time something really great happens to you,” she says. “And that becomes its new story.” 🌀
MacKinley Jade is a journalist, friend, and lover living in New York City. She writes the fashion and culture newsletter Yeehawt and posts poorly lit outfit photos @mackinleyjade on Instagram.