My Old Leather Jacket

When I graduated college in California I didn't receive any gifts just lots of congratulations. My boyfriend at the time took me to dinner to celebrate but complained the whole night that he should've graduated already. He had one more year after I graduated. He was doing like he normally does, playing the competition game and playing "I should of, could of". The whole night was him complaining.

I got a job right out of college. So my plan was to hurry save up money and pay off my credit card bill because I ran it up very high buying school books. I had moved into my dad and uncle's place for the
time being. I was not planning to stay very long. Have you ever lived with 2 men? It is not fun.

Within 6 to 8 months I was able to pay off my credit card and save enough money to get my own apartment. I was pretty lucky. It was in the next building from my father's. So I was on my way to independence, complete independence. That's when I decided to finally buy myself my graduation present. Some people went on vacations, others bought jewelry, and others buy knick knacks. I wanted a leather coat. I've always wanted one. Especially after seeing my sister with a nice one.

I didn't just want any particular one. I shopped around intensely for one. I found it in Lerners NY, which is now called New York & Co. It was beautiful. It was black. Just made it past my bottom. Had a
belt and 2 pockets at the side. It had simple elegance. I was so happy with my purchase that I hardly wore it. I do that at times. It makes things last longer, lol. I had other jackets and coats to wear. I just
loved looking at it and the fact it was my own.

So by time I moved back to NY in 2001 I started to wear the jacket a bit more. In NY, I wore it regularly in the fall and sometimes in the spring. I was wearing my jacket on 9/11. When I got out of the subway that morning by the World Trade Center, I was covered in soot from the burning building. At that point only one plane had hit. I just made it in time for the see the second plane hit. I'm glad I was late that morning. I was supposed to go into that building. I normally didn't work there. I was picking something up from a customer there. Needless to say, I had to run for my life in my leather jacket and shoes on.

At this point no one was allowed on or off the island of Manhattan. So I had to walk from lower Manhattan all the way to my Godmother's place at W 89th St and Amsterdam. Near the other end of the island. I barely made it. When I hit W 62 St, I could not walk any longer without severe pain. I just sat on a bench. Then a man in a white van stopped and was offering rides up Broadway for $1. It should've been free but beggars can't be chosers.

I got in van and got off at W 89th and crawled on my hands and knees to my godmother's place. She was waiting for me. My jacket full of soot dirtying her clean apartment. She didn't care. She just embraced me as
I walked in. She fed me, I took a shower (more like a bath since I could barely stand) as my clothes were being washed. I ate and went to go to sleep. However, the combination of all the crap I enhaled down
at the WTC, taking off my filthy clothes and my grim reeper, my godmother's cat, I had to be rushed to the ER. There I spent the rest of the night. I wanted to go home though.

In the morning very few trains were leaving Manhattan and I made sure that I was on one of them. Me and my trusty leather jacket. I was still in excruciating pain from walking and trying to breath but I needed to be home.

Since then, me and my jackey has been inseparable. It's my favorite. Last year my mom started to complain about me wearing it. She said it looks like a hobo's jacket. Granted the pockets were no longer pockets, but a hole at the sides. Some color was starting to fade. The lining was intact. Thru the years, the coat has molded itself to fit my body. Like I said, it was my favorite coat. So I ignored my mother and just didn't wear it when she came to visit.

So my mother came up in March and caught me wearing my leather coat. She fussed at me profusely about wearing my coat. She saying how awful it looked. I asked my brother for back up and he agreed with her. The traitor!! I was not going to part with my jacket. I refuse!!!!!

So my mom, my niece and myself had a girls trip to the mall because My niece needed a pair of jeans. My mom drags me into the leather store. It's a store that only sell leather coats, boots and accessories. She
made me try on multiple jackets. I tried on this dark chocolate jacket. It was my style, simple elegance. Nothing so flashy about it. In most lights it looks black. I'm still a bit hesitant to part with my jacket. But this new jacket was really nice. It wouldn't hurt if I had 2. So I decided to buy it. As we were leaving the store, my mom tells me that if I didn't buy it, she would've. Damn it. I could've gotten a free jacket.

When I reached home, my nephew was in my room playing on my PS3. I walked in with my jacket and he says to me, "Wow, a new jacket. Your other one looked like it died!" I was so ready to strangle him. I just
gave him "the look" and he apologized and turned back to his game. I mean everyone was against my jacket. Granted some parts of it lost its color. The black was starting to look a little grey. It was still wearable. Everyone is just jealous!!!!!!

My mother came into my room and said that I should donatr my old leather coat. WTH!!! If I'm not allowed to wear it because it looks like it's dead, why donate it? She said it will come in handy to someone who needs a coat. But why my coat!!!?!!! It was a banter all night until I gave in. I will donate my coat. I hope whomever receives it appreciates it and loves it like I did. Still do. Just typing post is making my eyes tear up.

Here's pics of my old jacket:







Here's pics of my new jacket: