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An Open Letter to Hawaiian Shirts

Dear, Hawaiian Shirts,

I used to associate you with old men on vacation in el Viejo San Juan. The kind that buy those 2 for $5 souvenirs made in China, rather than handcrafted pieces made by local artisans. I thought you were tacky, stereotypical and I cringed when I saw you on the racks at Kmart.

But something happened. It sparked something in me. I found this red top, decorated with flowers of an adjacent color and warm yellow at my church's second hand charity shop. You were unlike any shirt I had ever seen. You smelled strange, since you were probably owned by a woman of advanced age before we met, but I managed to look past that. After all, you were only 50 cents. I took you home and threw you in the laundry machine to then hang you to air dry. I was surprised by how well you fit me. Tucked into my beloved mom jeans, I felt like a new signature outfit was born.

A few months later, a hurricane happened. The tragedy turned out to not be a tragedy after all. It carried me all the way to Washington for a bit of a vacation where I saw a lot of new things and met a lot of good people. And there, in a small Goodwill, waiting for me, was your counterpart. Same brand, same silhouette. Different size, print and price. This time you were blue oceans and red flowers. In my giant coat, nostalgia struck for home in the middle of a Tacoma Goodwill. You reminded me of the red version I left back home, expecting to not be able to sport you in the weather I wasn't acclimated to. What were the odds I would find the same exact shirt in a different print almost 6'000 miles away from where I found the original? I was reminded of warmth, so I took you with me, knowing I'd be reunited with your red opposite soon.

You are not tacky, nor stereotypical. You are a celebration of the tropical flora, of the salty ocean and year-round heat of the place I call home. To some, you are to be worn exclusively on relaxing vacations. My excuse is that I'm on vacation everyday, so a part of my everyday you shall be.

With love,

Ashley

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