The One That Stayed

In 2008 I found a leather jacket on eBay. Researched it for weeks. This was before you could just ask the internet anything. I built my dad a bullet-pointed list of reasons he should front me a hundred dollars, with a repayment plan in GameStop checks. I think there were four checks. Maybe five. He said yes.

I have never been more proud of anything in my life.

That jacket has seen more punk shows than I can count. I wore it in the summer. In Arkansas. That's how much I loved this thing. People didn't have to know me. If they'd seen me around, they'd seen the jacket first.

It's been thrown up on. It's been driven over. It's been stolen and found. It's been through a baby and hair school. It's been grazed by bullets, paint, sweat, tears, and GWAR goo.

A couple years ago I was strapped. Looking around my house for anything of value. I listed the jacket but I wasn't really ready to let it go, so I put an astronomical asking price on it. Like $600. Just to see.

Posted it on Instagram. A friend saw it and reached out. I told him the price. He said he'd take it.

I figured he had a new girlfriend. Thought she'd look cool in it. Fine. Okay. Cool.

He came to get it. Said yeah, I'm buying it for a friend. Put the money in the jacket and handed it back to me.

I don't have a lot of words for that. It was one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.

She's still here. I don't reach for her as often as I used to. I was in the middle of figuring out who I was without the armor, and sometimes you need to set the most powerful thing down for a minute and find out.

But I'll reach for her again soon. I can feel it.

Clothes are powerful. Choose accordingly.

xo,

Cat