Sure, it might be a washed-up, old hand-me-down...but it works like a charm, fits like a glove, conjures up more cliches than you can shake a stick at.
Torn at the wrist, torn at the cuff, torn at the elbow - it's a slightly bit Western, one-quarter rock and roll, and completely leather. A brown suedeish leather with bright orange stitching that screams out like an angry road rager flashing a middle finger.
It's from my father...30 years and 120 pounds ago. He said it went through some bar fights, some romances, and a peace-loving era. Looking at it, you might think piece-loving might be more apropos.
I wear it still...I'm getting ever closer to the day when it will probably get retired. It's timeless to me, and although I haven't been through bar fights or numerous romances with it on - it has served me well.
Looking back on it, I think my father gave it a good marinade...some seasoning if you will. I just enjoyed the finished, tattered goods.
Compulsive blogger! This is great. I've created a monster ... and I have no shame!
ReplyDelete"slightly bit Western, one-quarter rock & roll, and completely leather ..."
Friend, that's a hell of a jacket, and a hell of a you! ;)