Pre-barhopping this Saturday night, Kara posting as John since I never log him out. I just wanted to share a story about the jacket I'm wearing in the video, which might not be totally visible behind my mass of hair.
See, I have a class on Lyndale Ave. on Thursdays at the Jungle Theatre, and it happens to be right across the street from one of my favorite MPLS thrift/vintage stores, Tatters. So of course I go in, having given myself plenty of time to map out the bus schedule and that ilk, and what do I find but this jacket, the jacket of my dreams. Seriously, I've been looking for this jacket for three months or so, and in no way is that exaggeration.
I think it's from the 1940s or 1950s; it's black crepe silk, with a gold detailing on the lapels in a design reminiscent of what I like to call Sgt. Pepper jackets. Perfection, and it fit. Flawless. It was $45, but I figured that's a small price to pay for the jacket of my dreams and lust.
The owner of Tatters told me he's kept the jacket at his house for about ten years after buying it, simply because he didn't want to let it go. He called it his Cinderella jacket, because it was so magical, and told me he was so happy it was going home with me, since I clearly loved it to the point of obsession. I'm going to pair it with teeny miniskirts and gold chains come spring (and a tan), and with lots of black for the rest of this winter.
<3 k
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