What do you really sell?

Not all great relationships have that fall in love at first sight beginning. I wish I could say ours did…but it didn’t. 

Many years and two kids later, I can confidently say that I’ve gotten over my initial hesitations and we’ve built a bond that I hope will last a lifetime.

I still remember how it all started. 

I put in a lot of work online, and I finally decided to take the plunge and pull the trigger.

A few days later, I got the email that I was waiting for and I eagerly headed home in the evening and when I got there, the cause of all my excitement was waiting for me on the porch.

I skipped up the stairs and didn’t even wait to get inside to rip off the shiny green packaging and there it was… my new flannel shirt.

Similar to how you may feel in this very moment, the excitement that had been building in me quickly faded.

I’m not an impulse buyer and I had spent more time than I cared to admit reading reviews, waiting for sales, lamenting missed sales, and then finally purchasing a nice new flannel shirt only to be disappointed.

My first thought was how glaringly bright the colors were. Red, blue, white and some sort of orange-ish-y yellow that I didn’t remember from the photos online seemed to glow with their newness.

It wasn’t until I tried it on that I realized I ordered a tall instead of a regular (turns out the sale price was only for the tall). 

And I guess I just didn’t realize how large the pockets were on this thing. 

I’m not sure if it was the vibrancy of the colors or the fact that the shirt came all the way down to mid thigh, but I looked in the mirror and thought to myself - there’s a guy who doesn’t know how to buy clothes.

It might be relevant to note here that no one who knows me would accuse me of being a trendy man. I regularly cycle through being on trend, ahead of trends, and behind trends depending on how society feels about the bearded midwest lumberjack look at any given moment.

I tried working my new shirt into the rotation. 

It was a bit tough to tuck in because of how long and thick it was and it just looked clownish untucked. I had the best luck when the weather got colder and I could throw on a vest or jacket to cover up the akwardness.

Eventually, the shirt was gobbled up by the troll that lives in my closet who hides under a pile of unworn items and I moved on.  

There is really only one thing that saved it come donation time. Michigan evenings get cool, and embers from bonfires have ruined more than one shirt of mine, so it became the perfect up north campfire shirt. 

It took up a little extra space in my duffel because of the size and thickness, so at some point I decided to save a little packing space and throw it on over a t-shirt and make it part of my driving up north outfit (not sure if that's a thing for everyone, but it's a thing for me). 

Over the years, the dye seemed to fade a bit to reveal the intricacies of the stitching. For one reason or another, the size didn’t bother me as much any more.

It still wasn’t a go to shirt for work, but it took a more prominent place in the closet and became sort of a utility knife of shirts.

Having kids changed things a bit.

All of a sudden I realized that those large pockets could fit multiple pacifiers. Milk (and other fluids) was easily soaked up by the thick flannel and apparently just disappears.

The warmth and softness of the fabric was perfect for cradling a tiny head.

At some point I started to notice that my wife would use it as a blanket and cuddle up on a cool summer evening with it. Under the perpetual campfire smell there is a hint of the aroma of whatever detangling, dry shampooing, leave in conditioning hair product she uses and it seems to rise to the surface at all the right moments.

Last summer it took on a new role as a beach towel for a two year old. 

This summer we discovered my favorite use.

As I sat sipping a cup of coffee on the beach with my boys, a cool summer morning Lake Michigan breeze cut the air and I relaxed in one of those old school metal framed lawn chairs with my shoes off and flannel on. 

Excitedly, my son rushed over to show me a handful of shells and sand.

Where can we put them?

Before I could answer, he found the solution - The Sea Shell Pocket. 

His little fingers fumbled with the button on the chest pocket and then he hurriedly dropped in his sea shells and sand before running off to find more. 

I pray I never forget the joy on his face as he returned time after time to show me his shells and pick out which ones we should keep in the pocket and which weren’t worthy. 

At this very moment, there are one or two tiny shells and a fair bit of sand still in there.

It’ll get washed at some point and maybe a few grains of sand get stuck in there, maybe they don’t. But no amount of time or washing will ever stop it from being the Sea Shell Pocket. 

It’s funny how these things happen. 

A couple years back, on my front porch, I was kicking myself for spending too much money on a flannel that didn’t even fit. 

Today, the memories I’ve made and continue to make are worth so much more than I could have ever imagined and you can be assured that I’ll never go to the beach with my boys again without my perfect flannel.

If you think this blog post is only about flannel shirts, you would be mistaken. It's about the real, experience-based value behind the things we buy. For us, that means coworking spaces, and exploring the real ways they help people build a better life through better work. If you or someone you know is thinking about starting a coworking space, please don't hesitate to reach out to schedule a free, fun, casual discovery call today!