Every May my sweatshirts went into the cupboard, and I didn’t see them again until October. Then last June my brother laughed at me, because I was shivering in a thin tee on a walk after dinner while he strolled beside me in his sweatshirt looking fine. That small moment changed how I think about an Aimé Leon Dore sweatshirt in summer, because I had always put mine away the minute...
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