Have you ever purchased a new pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a satchel, or jacket because it looked lived in?
It’s a real thing. Paying for the appearance of age on our garments. Buying them pre-distressed and sometimes spending a fortune for that faked aging.
Like the Colorado trucker hat I once bought on vacation. It came complete with sun-fade and frayed edges.
We purchase these tattered garments because we want to appear authentic and well-versed. We buy the image we want.
But then a funny thing happens as the years go by. That distressed clothing slowly merges the fake patina with the earned wear of our experiences.
Like with my hat. I take it on some real hikes. I climb to 12,000 feet. Sleep on it. And the faux wear-and-tear mixes with actual trail dust.
Branches and lake boulders strip away even more stitching. The Colorado sun partners with sweat to change the faded dark blue to a light purple.
We become the image we set out to portray. Our clothes, our faces, our actions show all the scuffs and dings of the adventures and misadventures we’ve had. We don’t need the artificial yellowing on our jackets or the acid wash on our jeans. The sepia across our photographs.
Reminds me of the jobs we accept and then stress over. Can we handle this new task? This new challenge?
We end up dressing for the part. Acting the part. And somehow we end up pulling it off. We grow into the new role. We become the genuine article.
Overheard on a Mountaintop 