I was at a gig on Sunday last and through a series of unfortunate incidences, I left without my jacket. My loveable, trustworthy, grey leather jacket. I’m a little lost without it truth be told, it was like a warm cup of tea – went with everything and comforting as a hug. I know that hope is not entirely lost yet – I have left messages with the premises and have held a candle-lit vigil by my bed side every night…but if history has taught me anything it is this:  lost jackets never make it home…

  1. Historical Fact x 1: Green, parka style firetrap jacket left bundled under a table at a music festival whilst I danced only meters away from the scene of the crime – stolen, by some ruthless raver. Festival was in Bristol. No chance of recovery.
  2. Historical Fact x 2: Green, parka style firetrap replica (I was so bereft at the previous loss, I had to purchase an imitation immediately) left in good faith at a party in the Pheonix Park. That was during my period ‘Two-Jacket-Jennie’ (I took to wearing two jackets. Bold statement I know ) I shrugged off the exterior, relaxed in the knowledge that I was with close friends. Jacket next seen casually draped over the party-host’s girlfriend.
  3. Historical Fact x 3: Green (is thrice a theme or a lack of imagination?) military style  jacket left in computer room in college. Probably now used as a mop for some student.
  4. Historical Fact x 4: Brown leather bomber jacket left abandoned in a pub during closing hours in the rush to get out and finish my conversation/argument with someone. Admittedly I may have liberated (at a previous juncture) that jacket from underneath a pub table during closing hours. Its part of the circle of life.

Notwithstanding the countless scarves, hats, gloves, broaches, handbags, wallets, walking canes (matter of taste) buttons, necklaces, rings, headbands, hairbands and kitchen sinks that go missing. Is it just me? Basically, unless the said item grows out of my flesh and blood, there is an 87% chance I’m gonna lose it, 76% if  I’ve worn the item more than 4 times.  And shoes, that’s just a whole other ballgame. Ever wonder about those lost, forlorn looking shoes, discarded by the side of the road, no dignity, no hope? Where do they come from? These single shoes, confused, alone? How does their owner get home? I know – limping.  All I can say is Trinity Ball, a coal cart at the end of the night and a dystopic version of Cinderella.

 

not the new converse, not yet...converse burial

the great lost coat city in the skythe great lost coat city in the sky…

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