Clo(thes)ure

The (*&$#@ moths got to my camel-hair coat and I should get rid of it. But I LOVE this coat. I know, people and experiences are more important than material things, but .... I LOVE this coat.

It literally came to my rescue: We were in London (pretentiousness alert) on a cold evening, just having rushed through the National Gallery, when I spied a street market. I was catching a cold and felt in need of a warmer coat. And there was a lovely coat, hanging at the front of a rack of coats, in plain sight, practically with me written all over it. The vendor was trying to close, so she accepted my haggling, happy to make one more sale. I was happy every time I wore it. Now it has little chew marks all over it (did I mention the *&^%$ moths?) and I really should get rid of it.

But when I get ready to toss out my coat, I am reminded of the other favorite wardrobe items that went to the Great Beyond, that I still miss. Seriously.

--The alligator-patterned patent-leather shoes. Eventually discarded because the pointy toes were excruciatingly painful for dancing, which is precisely the activity for which I like to wear them.

--The flat slingbacks, embossed to look like ostrich. Eventually discarded because I wore the tips off the pointy toes and also because they were excruciatingly painful.

--The red Liz Claiborne pencil skirt, which was worn to great effect in the early 1990s but which eventually wore out, and would be excruciatingly painful to try to get on now.

Maybe I could just wear my coat at night? Yeah, that'd do it.