Pink Leather

  I am having love affair with pink leather.

This jacket is very pink, very unique, and very bad-ass; everything that I love and aspire to be.

As soon as I spotted it I decided that it would be mine even if I had to starve myself down to whatever size was available. THAT'S how much I instantly loved this jacket. Luckily they had the exact size that matches my "goal" jeans hanging on the back of my door. (Don't fret, fair readers, the size is not drastic or dramatic. In fact, it is the last size that I remember being pretty comfortable in, not minding shorts and tank tops. Not too small, but smaller than I am now.)

As soon as my fingertips touched the buttery leather, I was tempted to swoon but stood my ground as I did not want Caitlin to worry about me. I did close my eyes in ecstasy and look at Cait where she pursed her little lips and said, "Cute." Ahhh, I do SO love my daughter. I placed it delicately in the cart and quickly walked away before I changed my mind, chickened out, or saw something else I had to have.

When I found my mom the look on her face when she saw my treasure spoke volumes and had I been the same person I was a year ago I would have immediately hung it back on the round. Instead I looked at her waiting for the comment I knew she was thinking, but it never came-I guess we are both growing up.

You see, had I saw this jacket anytime before now I would have put it on, fingered the leather lovingly, and put it back on the rack for the braver, more confident person needed to wear such a creation. I have been constantly told from the time I was a kid what "looked" like me and that would have never been it. Neither was the beautiful lace, drop waist Guine Sax dress I lusted after when I was 12. Oh, I wanted that dress for my first Easter/Communion/Baptism, but my Mom told me it didn't "look" like me. I was just not a lace person. That was kind of the beginning of me questioning and thinking that, although I really liked something, it may just not be for me. (Please no one tell my Mom about that, she'd just die.) 

So that feeling combined with my own desire to constantly fade into the background has pretty much fueled every clothing choice I have ever made. Nothing too flashy. Nothing too fancy. Nothing too noticable. Then you roll in the "helpful" clothing choices my ex made for me (he gave me a pink intervention and I had zero pink clothing items for several years) and...well, I got nothing. 

It has been pretty fun picking out my own clothes and building a wardrobe that consists of pieces that I love and make me happy. Although I make sure they flatter me, I do not consider whether or not anyone else likes it. And my jacket...my beautiful, pink, buttery-leather jacket symbolizes my ultimate freedom. My departure from being overly conserned with what other people think I am and finding what I AM for myself.

My jacket is just the first step...