There’s something about hand-me-downs. I love them. And although I certainly appreciate the ones that come to us in mint condition, I think my favorites are the pilly old pj’s with the stretched out elastics and the jeans with the threadbare knees.
I love to slip him into things that I remember my nephew wearing ten years ago or that I know friends’ kids have kicked around in. It’s almost like the history is woven into the fiber, which, no matter how cute or current or charming it may be, you’ll never find in a new piece of clothing.