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My own dots

After writing about ‘the dots’ this morning, I couldn’t help but look back and reconnect my own. I was clearing up the attic, and came across this rather small personalised t-shirt my dear Mum bought for me when I was a toddler. I remember it well, it was my absolute favourite!

I smile as I imagine two year old me, standing in my personalised shimmering t-shirt, pot belly sticking out, clueless as to where my life would go, or what I’d grow up to be. That I would go on to found NOTHS, and that personalised t-shirts for children would become one of our biggest categories. Not only that, but I think that personalised goods were not even a ‘thing’. I remember mum being very unique in what she bought us.

There are dots in life that are tangible, like the t-shirt, and intangible, like the things that just happen, or coincidences, that are anything but. I love these little markers of fate – like tiny flags from the universe, telling us we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.

 


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