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a tale of two coats

When we moved back here from Colorado in 1998, one of the first things we did once we had a place to live was to go buy some clothes with the security deposit from our old place. We called long distance and begged the manager of the Colorado place to put in a good word for us with the management company to get our deposit back. We deserved it too, considering they refused to fix the fridge that didn't work, or the bathroom light that you couldn't turn off, because if you did, it would not turn back on for about 3 weeks. We were so poor, we were literally wearing rags. I think I had 4 t-shirts, a dress, and a pair of pants. And everything had holes all over them. We were skinny and hungry and sick and had no clothes.

I bought a thermal-lined green hoodie. For a long time it was just a plain hoodie, but eventually we got some money once we found jobs and I bought some faux fur to line the hood and the cuffs. I got some decorative buttons for the sleeves and strips of fancy ribbon for the chest. I put different things on there over time. Took things off. I got a button maker for my birthday one year and I made tons of one-off pinbacks and wore those for a long time. Got a NIN patch that I put on the pocket. (Cuz I am part of the NIN Army, you know.) Eventually I made a patchwork hand of Fatima and sewed that on the back. I still have that coat and up until about a year ago, I still wore it.

A few years ago, the zipper started doing that thing where it will unzip from the bottom when it is zipped up. It's a real pain to deal with, and it would open up when I was walking around in the cold. Trying to fix a zipper in a Minnesota winter outside is a real bitch.

I don't own a sewing machine, and I haven't had good luck hand-sewing new zippers in things. You pull on a zipper a lot harder than you realize.

So, when we had all those credit cards, I decided to get a new hoodie. I got a brown one with faux shearing lining. I also bought all sorts of vintage tribal stuff to put on there.

For the back, I got a big fabric disc with mirrors from Afghanistan. The site said everything they had was made by young girls in the 80s and 90s. I figured those people are probably bombed to shit by now thanks to the US Governments' obsession with opium.

I got a sari trim from India and cut it to fit on the arms like armbands.

I bought a Hmong fabric art that was originally used as straps for a baby carrier. Really intricate cross stitch. I put it on the front.

Put faux fur on the hood and sleeves again. Rows of buttons on the sleeve. Got some shell beads and lined the pocket trim with them. Got some metal pins from the thrift store. Bought a big patch of a rat in boxing gear that reads “Fight Back Against Animal Testing.”

It's a pretty hip coat. You can tell it's me when I'm walking down the street. Ain't no fucking North Face. Even the fucking hicks at my job tell me how much they like my coat. Which is weird.

I had put my green hoodie in my memory box because of the zipper thing. But a few nights ago, I had a dream all night that I needed to fix my green coat and put my new one away. Aside from the zipper, the coat is in good shape. Sort of. The faux fur is totally threadbare. Looks like an animal with mange. The patchwork Fatima needs some attention. But everything else is OK. Really good for how old it is and how much I wore it.

All night I dreamed that I need to fix this coat and wear it again. I almost got up in the middle of the night and started working on it. It seemed like the most important thing in the world.

Awhile ago I had hung the green coat back in the closet. It smelled good. Like how life used to smell. I can't even explain why.

My new coat is, in most ways, totally superior. We call it the graveyard coat, because all the artwork from people that are probably dead. I inadvertently became a walking testimony to anonymous art. People seem to think it's strange that I picked all those things out myself and sewed them on there. They think I bought it that way. A coat like that would cost a fortune. I guess it kind of did. Just did it over time. And with credit card money that eventually got wiped out during bankruptcy.

But it's not the same as my old green coat. Maybe it's just because I have trouble letting things go. Too many memories attached to the green coat. The brown coat is still pretty new.

I don't know what to do. It's getting cold enough now I need to wear my winter coat anyway. But that dream was awful. It kept repeating in my head all night. Me fixing the green coat. Putting away the brown coat. Urgent and important.

Maybe it's just the time of year. Samhain. Maybe I've just been having bad dreams because I am still recovering from the total psychotic break my husband had two weeks ago. Or that I've been going to job interviews and feeling totally suck at my shit job.

I will only be working weekends now. I just can't go to that place any more than that. I hate hate hate my job. I hate money. I hate that I need money. So that means I have to have a job. Fuck it fuck it fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

Maybe it's just that no matter what, things are better DIY. And the brown coat may be “nicer” but I'm not a nice person.

12:59 PM - Tuesday, Oct. 31, 2017

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