The first thing that comes to mind is my beloved "night rag," as Buck calls it. It is/was (it's still in a drawer) a cotton spaghetti strap short nightie I bought at a Vanity Fair outlet in about the late '70s. It was, when new, the softest cotton I'd ever felt, save for baby clothes and I wore it constantly.
Fast forward to 1994 when I came downstairs after a night's sleep and Buck said, "Nice night rag."
I hadn't realized it'd lost most of its color and was tattered in a number of places. I was shamed into shopping for a new one. Now the new one is called a "night rag" in spite of the fact that it's relatively new.
Needless to say, I wear things to death.
"As a girl I had zero interest in the stove." - Julia Child
This is real inspiration. Look what Julia became!