Audrey has very strong clothing-based memory. Is that even a thing? Whenever I put something on her, it's "I hit my teacher in this dress" or "I threw the ball at Mary in this shirt" or "Last time I had this shirt, Aidan hit Grace Anne".
As they can be, most of her memories are violence-based.
She also comments frequently on things that I am wearing. But here's the thing: I have very few clothes. Actually, I should rephrase that: I have very few clothes that I wear. I have a closet full of clothes that either don't fit me anymore or I hate or don't fit me anymore.
I can't spare the money to buy clothes for every fat phase, and of course I keep thinking that I'll lose weight and then miraculously have this whole new section of my closet available to me. Except those clothes are mostly from the late-90's. Mama is not giving up until she can fit into that Spice Girls t-shirt again.
My winter attire consists of exactly 2 pairs of jeans and about 5 tops. For summer, I have two pairs of shorts and maybe...hmmmm...I haven't seen my summer attire in a while, so I'm just gonna spitball and say...about 5 tops. On second thought, I may actually be down to one pair of shorts this year because after we got back from Florida my mother-in-law was here and dried one of them all the way through.
Audrey is still growing out of her clothes fairly quickly, so we mostly just get one season of her back-stories-on-repeat until the stuff gets donated or handed-down. Although we did give a bunch of stuff to Lauren's niece Emily, including the dress that Audrey famously hit her teacher in. So that little misty-beat-down-memory may still have some life in it if she sees Emily wearing it. Yeah, that would make for some awesome party conversation.
On the other hand, Audrey has seen me in any given outfit every 5th day for years. So when I wear a certain shirt, I get "Mom took me to school in that shirt" and "Mom was at my party in that shirt" and "Mom wore those pants at the mall" and like 500 other things because I freaking always have the same things on. It's like she gets on an infinite loop and can't stop herself because the memories are endless. She eventually stops when smoke starts coming out of her ears or I whack her upside the head.
My clothes are so old - HOW? OLD? ARE? THEY? - my clothes are so old that my kid's memories of them include "Mom was in California in that shirt a long time ago" and "Mom had a baby in her tummy in those pants". Not even kidding. I don't know which is worse: that my kid's memories of my clothes pre-date her existence (she's seen the pregnancy photos) or that I'm still wearing maternity sweats.