Sometimes Love Just Ain’t Enough.

voltee ♦ April 16, 2011 ♦ 5 Comments

Item: Jacket Color/Fabric: White, Cotton/spandex Designer: Luella For Target Where Purchased: Target Years Owned: Five
Tonight I am feeling a little melancholy. You know, just non-specific sadness. A feeling that I call blue.
I don’t know why. I had a lovely night of Shakespeare, and wonderful company.
It might be the fact that just seconds ago I put two ‘n’s and two ‘i’s in feeling. Or it may be the extra nostalgic tunes my iTunes is bestowing upon me this evening.
Tonight I am missing some souls I hold very dear, who are far away. You know who you are. And some of you don’t.
Well.
I’m afraid that I don’t have many words regarding this jacket. It’s something that I have had for many years, and yet cannot remember a single time that I’ve worn it. I am sure that I have. I look at it and see a field, with many people. A fair? A flea Market? Some sort of cultish gathering?
I just can’t remember.
I do remember buying it, though. I think that this may have been the first “Designer” label to come to Target. It was certainly one of the first. I was thrilled at the concept of getting something sort of exclusive for a very low price. And I fell in love with this jacket.
It seemed so modern and hip. A blazer! Every girl needs to have a blazer, I told myself. And one that is slightly quirky is even better!
I saw myself wearing this to the city, on writing excursions I was breathless to take. And that never happened, not even a single time.
Here’s the kicker. What sealed the deal;

Cherries! On the lining!
That summer I was in the process of getting the first nickname I’ve ever liked. I think I only ever had two other nicknames that I can remember. Kerbear, which happened I think just because it rhymed, and Catgirl, born out of my tree climbing abilities and tendency to meow at strangers when I was wee. Now it seems just a stone’s throw away from Catlady, and I’m glad it never stuck.
One day at rehearsal for Chicago, Kevin called me Cherry, and I answered, too shy to ask him why in the world he would call me that. Then other people started to refer to me as Cherry, and by that point I was baffled, but felt it had gone too far to speak up then.
I think that it was towards the end of the run, when I signed something “Kerry,” and Kevin was like, “Who is this Kerry person?”
“It’s me,” I said sheepishly, embarrassed beyond words.
There was much merriment. He really thought my name was Cherry, and so everyone else did by default.
It’s kind of gone away, now. Only a few people ever still call me that. But I like it when they do. It’s like my secret identity, when I need a little confidence. You know, like Beyonce has Sasha Fierce.
I have Cherry.
I like the concept of it lining my jacket, so just I know it’s there. A secret.
I also like the concept of this jacket. Love, actually.
Why can’t I make it work? I just can’t pull it off. I see it with a flouncy skirt and flats, or skinny jeans and heels. Over a bright sun-dress with sandals. Maybe just with a leotard, a la Gaga.
So many possibilities!
Yet I fail every time I put it on. Is it too cropped? Too white? Too little girly?
When is it time to throw in the towel?

**I just haven’t figured this out yet. But can’t let myself let it go yet. Help!