Dear Kimbo,

I want to start this letter by saying that I enjoyed our intense bonding time during this last year. Honestly, I didn’t realise how much time we would be spending together when this all started.

Before, we only had Sundays. That gave us something to look forward to. Our special weekly date. Now every day is a never-ending black hole. I can still remember when we met at the sale rack. You took one look and exclaimed, “Wow! Ten dollars! F**k yeah!” Once you tried me on in that dressing room, that smelled like feet, we fit perfectly. Just the right amount of closeness to not feel too strained. We knew we were meant to be together.

I’ll never forget the first night we spent together, snuggling on your lounge. On that winter night in Sydney I kept you warm. I knew we’d be together for such a very long time. In every fabric fiber of my being, I knew an amazing life awaited us.

You took care of me. For so many years, you cared for me. The times in the gentle cycle, the times you actually hung me up on a hanger. On special occasions, we used an iron. That only made our love stronger. More powerful. All the effort and kindness you put into making our relationship last made me so proud to be yours.

However, during this last year, things changed. Days go by without you changing and honestly, I don’t enjoy smelling like you right now. You stopped washing me. I’ve had Cheetos stains for a week. Spilled cereal rests on my fabric like a horrid scar. It’s like you don’t even care anymore.

Zoom calls are filled with complaints about our relationship. Wearing me is depressing, you say. You’re sick of being stuck inside. That’s hurtful, because you’re stuck with me. You wish you had an excuse to leave our home. One friend even described me as “washed out.” Rude does not even begin to describe it.

You’re just lazy now. We watched the entire Harry Potter series two times this week. Two. Times. I have not seen daylight in two weeks. Light is now a foreign concept outside of your laptop and flatscreen’s dull glow.

After all the time spent together, life happened. Feelings changed. Constantly being together… it’s not healthy. Not special. I feel overused and under-loved. That’s my threaded life now. So, it’s with a heavy heart that I must do this.

It’s time that we break up.

I’ll move back into the cupboard. You should spend some time in your jeans or skirts. Do you even remember what other fabric besides cotton feels like? All your other clothes were abandoned once this epidemic started. I can’t be your everything. Time with the washer, some detergent, time by myself — this is all-important. I need a break and, honestly, you need to focus on yourself. Go for a walk. Eat a salad. Wash your hair. Now that quarantine is changing, we can spend some time apart.

Maybe we can spend a long Monday night together binging TV after this break. We’ll see where life takes us. Hopefully, we can still be friends. I wish you the best. No matter what, I’ll never forget our memories and the time we spent together.

Best,

Your Sweatpants

Your Author 

Kimberly Fisher Horan is an Australian Fashion Editor, Stylist & Writer based in Manila Philippines. Co-Founder of Sitara Vintage & founder of TPNW shoes

Check out The Perfect Nude Wedge and Sitara Vintage to see Kimbo’s designs.