This Is Not Good

When I was a little tyke, I'm afraid my fate was sealed in terms of the development of my tactile sense.  For some reason, unknown to anyone other than God, I was imbued with a very low tolerance to anything scratchy touching my skin, especially when it came to fabrics that would come in contact with my torso, arms, neck, and thighs.  I have memories earlier than five years of age, refusing to wear undershirts or slips, for little girls, that had any type of lace attached.  More than once, I can also recall getting into trouble for taking scissors to my clothing in order to remove any offending scratchiness.

This quirk has not lessened as I've aged.......rather my aversion to any feeling other than silky-soft coming in contact with my skin has intensified to the point where Capt. SO refers to me as the principal character in "The Princess and the Pea."  I will not even tolerate a grain of sand in my bedsheets.  If I feel one microscopic granule of anything, I'm throwing off the covers and searching for it with my hands.

I do not understand why garment industry designers persist in adding scratchy laces, threads.....even plastics here and there to clothing.  I just cut off some plastic that was strangely attached between two shoulder seams that seemed to have zero structural purpose and, most definitely, no design purpose.  Go figure.  Some worker (or workers) in some underdeveloped country (or countries) is toiling away at a subsistence wage, sewing in these pieces of plastic, that will get removed immediately by a consumer once the garment is purchased and taken home.

If my scratchy "fetish" intensifies any more, I'll be wearing only 700-count bedsheets wrapped around my body like a sari.  This is not good!