My husband's shirt

I've started thrifting for my husband. It's not quite as fun as thrifting for myself, but I still get that thrift-high when I find an awesome shirt for $1.50 that will look dynamite on him. Then I steal that shirt.

And I wear that shirt. And, frankly, I rock the shirt. And when Robert wears it, he rocks the shirt too, but the look is very different. (Because as Mr. Rogers taught us, we are all special in our own special way.)

It's such a feminine thing to wear masculine clothing, isn't it? I mean, it can also be a masculine thing to wear masculine clothing, but you unbutton a couple of buttons and wear it with rolled up jeans and ballet flats it's just early '60s adorable in my opinion.

Plus it's kind of a sweet thing to do when the shirt belongs to your lovah. Although, I did feel like I matched my husband a little too much as we walked hand in hand through the grocery store in our thrifted-plaid-button-down shirts. We're a slightly too much sometimes I think. (At least we like each other.)