Shirt dress?

I got three compliments on my "dress" the last time I wore it. To each I said, "it used to be a shirt."

Now I'm not sure which it was originally intended to be - a shirt or a dress. 

I remember buying this shirt/dress at a little clothing boutique right off Hwy 9 in Ben Lomond. Tessie and I went shopping the summer before I left for college and she made me try it on. Again, another item I would never pick out for myself; again, another item I adore. (Tessie is good like that.) I wore this shirt/dress to countless Bennington dance parties, to plays, to work, to summer bbbqs. I've mended it more than once, which is true about a lot of my clothing. I just now realized: I've worn this for six years. 

I am having an interesting time with my clothing right now, precisely because so much of it has been with me for so long. Two days ago I wore a skirt I bought my junior year of high school. HIGH SCHOOL. No one should keep cheap clothing this long, but I do. I used these clothes to feel safe and protected and, well, cradled. I hated myself naked, but I could look at myself in these clothes. These clothes were my daily armor against the world and against myself. And now? Now I am having to let each of them go. 

It's not happening all at once but it is happening. Three weeks ago I threw away the black dress I wore to senior prom: right into the trash can. After that was the tunic shirt I bought at Jenna's senior sale, gray with little purple flowers on it. Last week I bought a new bathing suit. All of these clothes have memories woven into them, alongside the stitches I've clumsily added to make them last. Most I'm throwing out but I'm also putting the best ones away. I want to be clear about this: I am not saving them because I am going back. I won't. I absolutely will not wear those items again.

Instead, I am going to give them to my mother. My mom has offered to cut them up and make me quilt from all my old clothes, all my rusted armor. At first I just went with her idea but now I can't wait for that day. I can't wait until my mom hands me the craziest (probably ugliest) quilt you've ever seen and I wrap it around my normal sized shoulders and use it to keep myself warm, and not to hide.