On finding the perfect–yes, perfect–leather jacket.
When you’re on what seems like the perennial search for something, finally uncovering it elicits these paradoxical feelings of both accomplishment and great emptiness. On the one hand, you’ve finally found it but on the other, what happens now? A perennial search assumes searching perennially and when you’ve accomplished your goal infinity years too early, what’s next?
What’s worse is when the something in initial question is a leather jacket. And why? Because it’s a fucking leather jacket and a leather jacket really shouldn’t maintain the ability to satisfy or deprive us of essentially anything. Except perhaps dollar dollar bills. But as my story would have it, we are in fact talking about none other than the perfect leather jacket.
In my defense, finding The One (leather jacket) is like a stealthier version of the tale of Goldilocks in that some are too short, some are too wide, some are too tight and more often than not, some holster an unusual, permanent odor. This is precisely why when I laid eyes on The Perfect Jacket sitting across the shoulders of what looked like an Eastern European supermodel enjoying a juice at a sidewalk cafe in Soho yesterday, I went against all good judgement that allow people the privacy of enjoying juice on a sidewalk in Soho and in a most convoluted clown-y manner yelled, “Oh my God! That coat! Where?”
It was awful, really, but she answered, which was nice, and I learned that it was Blk Dnm, at which point I made like Forrest Gump and ran (a convenient three blocks only, to the store.)
Where I found it. Ultimately, I look for nice hardware and a length that nobody seems to understand will not compromise my back-to-ass ratio in the perfect leather jacket. Those features combined with a smooth and thin spring-appropriate leather help me confidently confirm that yes, it’s the best I’ll ever have–which is vastly different than Drake’s best but, you know, potato, potahtoe.
Blk Denim leather jacket, $895. I know, I know, it seems like a lot, but can you really, I mean really, put a price tag on perfect? I’d bet Goldilocks would have paid good money to get it “just right” from the getgo.