I was rough on my cloths. By the end of winter, whatever winter coat I had would be reduced to shreds and we would trek to the K-Mart each winter and buy me a new one. Usually by the end of the of February my coat had various pieces of tape holding it together. So it is not hyperbole to state that I was terrified at the idea of ruinign a perfectly good coat. If I got beet juice on it, I would be wearing a purple stained coat for months. Luckily my family did not keep pickled beets dangling over the edge of a high cabinet.