I have 3 more sweaters to post that I encountered before this one, but the story that goes with this one is exactly the sort of sweater story I was hoping for when I started this blog. That equals TOP priority.
Put your mind back to the early 2000s, if you will. I was in middle school, but Steve was living a raver's life, hard. One morning after being awake for 16 hours, in a trippy sort of state, he realized that his house was oppressivly boring.
At the time, Pittsburgh's Avalon Exchange (something like 90 percent of the sweaters on this blog have come from that store) was not a consignment shop. It sold new clothes designed to make your eyes spin in glowstick filled crowds. Steve, bored to death after 16 hours, but unable to sleep, decided that going to Avalon was his answer. The new problem was that when he got there, it hadn't opened yet.
I would have looked for some other entertainment at that point, but Steve is clearly more passionate about his outerwear. He sat down on the curb and waited for over 2 hours until they opened.
And he was rewarded with this stripy little number. These days he's a fashionable supervisor at my office with a well developed catch phrase for any bad situation, "It could be worse, it's not like there are Nazi's killing all the Jews."