Melancholy and the Little Luxe Jacket

voltee ♦ August 31, 2010 ♦ 3 Comments

Item :  Jacket   Color:  Leopard (Is that a color?)  Designer:  Rebecca Taylor    Where Purchased:  Neiman Marcus    Years Owned:  3    Condition:  Perfect

Tonight I am feeling a little melancholy.  I entirely hoped that once I began this product, memories would just come pouring out of me, unhindered, tumultuous, and prolific.  It hasn’t worked that way.  I hold these objects that have such storied pasts, and carefully photograph and document them, but it is a slow torture to extract the memory.  Perhaps my life has been more boring than I imagine it to be.  Or perhaps I just haven’t gotten to the good stuff yet.  Yes.  Let’s go with that option!

So tonight I have chosen a garment with a slightly melancholy past.

The first time I planned to wear it was my joint 30th birthday extravaganza.  We had a 30’s Hollywood theme, and I thought it would be perfect.  I don’t know why.  It was the middle of May.  And an indoor party.

Anyway, I think the first time I actually wore it was my very first trip to Europe.  I thought, Vienna. Does anything say Vienna like faux leopard?   Yeah.  I don’t think so either.

Sadly,  I barely remember Vienna.  One of the very first things I saw was a beautiful pink bakery, with little pink awnings and little pink chairs and little pink cupcakes.  It was my heart’s delight!  “We just got here,” Nate said.  “We’re in Vienna.  There is a bakery like this on every corner!”

That was a lie.  There were no other pink bakeries.  There weren’t even any beige bakeries.  I think there is just one bakery in all of Vienna, and we passed it by.

Supposedly, also in Vienna there is a cemetery where multiple famous composers are buried.  This I am fairly certain isn’t a lie.  But for all I know it might be, because we never found it.  We walked for blocks.  And blocks.  And then more blocks, until I looked like this:

I collapsed in the middle of the street, tired, hungry, and hallucinating pink cupcakes.

I hear many people find Vienna very lovely.

The last time I wore this jacket was at a disastrous audition.  The kind that scar you for life.  One that is so bad that you can’t make yourself stop crying, even though you are fully aware of how ridiculous it is, and you have to attempt to sing through the tears.  And the only comfort you have is the fact that you chose to wear a lovely soft jacket that makes you feel pretty even when snot is bubbling out of your nose.

Verdict:  I think I will keep this jacket forever.  When I am 90 I will probably stuff moth balls into the pockets and break it out to show my grandchildren and tell them of all the delicious bakeries I ate at with Mozart.