As my brother will quickly attest to, I do not care much about fashion. Well, I’m sure he’d substitute the word “much” with “at all.” But the fact is I do care about fashion… in a really screwed up dream world way where I am some kind of cross between Indiana Jones and a 1950s noir style novelist. I have an idea of what image I want to carry, but I can never quite seem to find it. Also, I can’t afford it. When it comes to spending money, clothes tends to come last, after rent, food, bills, video games, books, [list edited for length], Slim Jims, and deodorant.
There are times where I’d like to throw out 90% of my wardrobe and just get a whole new set, but then the money meant for it runs down the priority list above, and I usually run out before I reach the Slim Jims. Maybe this is why God invented gift certificates, to prevent slobs like me from spending money that really should go towards clothes on the latest Xbox game.
Of course, there are clothes that I don’t wish to part with as well, though I wouldn’t mind upgrading to a better kind. Like my vest, for example. It’s getting a bit ragged and faded now, but the material is just great. It’s lightweight enough to use in the summer, and keeps just enough warmth in for use in spring and fall. Winter is the only time I can’t really use it.
The reason I like it has to do with that messed up imaginary land reality I mentioned earlier. It fits that image I have, though I know I could get one that fits my shape better.