That’s leather with a capital P

When it comes to coats and jackets, I really don’t define a personal style.  In winter, I’ll wear a Pittsburgh Steelers insulated jacket; I also have two Albany Patroons varsity jackets and a Kenworth trucking jacket, as well as a Harriet Gibbons High School fleece spring jacket.

Since my life has recently undergone a slew of renovations, I thought it was time to actually purchase a jacket that suited a style that was comfortable for me – and not just an advertisement of my favorite sports teams.  That, and the Kenworth jacket was getting a bit drafty.

So what do I want – a stylish windbreaker, maybe something with a Members Only vibe?  Or spend a few $$$$ and purchase a full-length insulated overcoat or trenchcoat?  I just don’t know.

So for inspiration, I went to Crossgates Mall to try to find something that would work for me.

Eventually I walked into the Via Roma men’s fashion store.  And among all the suit coats and peacoats and overcoats were a row of leather jackets – bomber jackets and motorcycle jackets and the like.

Okay, I realize that I’m about 30+ years removed from getting a motorcycle and hanging out with Richie and Potsie and Ralph… but I thought some more and decided that hey, I needed something to make me feel good about myself.  That, and since Via Roma was having a sale on their jackets and outerwear, I figured there was no harm in looking.

I eventually found one bomber jacket that caught my attention.  It was a dark brown leather jacket with an insulated liner and about seven different pockets.  The price – marked down to $50.  I took the jacket off the coathanger and tried it on.  It fit comfortably.

“Can I help you?” a salesman asked, walking over to me as I put the jacket back on its coathanger.

I pointed at the rack of jackets.  “Are all these jackets marked down to $50?”

“Yes,” he said, “but only these on the bottom row and these over here.”

Luckily for me, the jacket I wanted was on the bottom row.  “Why just those rows and not these?” I asked, pointing to the leather jackets on the upper level.

“Those are real leather,” the salesman replied.  “The ones on the row here – ” he pointed to my jacket – “are imitation leather.”

Now understand something about me.  I am not a fashion snob.  I don’t have a problem with wearing leather.  I also don’t have a problem with wearing something that looks like leather, either.  I know there are people who choose to wear a certain brand name or imprint, and will shy away from an imitation or knockoff – i.e., it’s gotta be a real Coach handbag, not one that just SAYS Coach on it.

Not me.  I’m not that vainglorious that I have to specifically wear a certain brand – I can wear generic or grey-label brand name clothing, it’s not like the fabric’s going to make my skin corrode.  So it’s “pleather?”  Big deal.  All that means to me is that no “pleathers” were killed in the making of this bomber jacket.  Hee.

I looked at the price again.  $50.

“I tell you what,” I said, using my best Rick Harrison Pawn Stars negotiating ploy, “I have to do some more shopping, but I may come back later for this jacket.”

“Well,” the salesman smiled, “If you want, I’ll take another $10 off the price if you buy the jacket now.”

Two minutes later, Via Roma made a sale, and the jacket was mine.

Now as for the jacket it will replace – I think, after seven years of wearing it, the Kenworth trucker’s jacket can find a new home.  The next time I go to Goodwill, I’ll drop it in the collection box.

Now let’s speed forward to Monday morning.  Chuck is bleary-eyed, the morning has arrived and it feels like a rough one.

I peeked out the window.  Snowstorm.  Again.  What is this, the seventh one this winter?

Showered.  Shaved.  Dressed.  Looked outside my front door.

Well, I’m pretty sure that the Saturn-shaped igloo on the street is Cardachrome…

And sure enough, it was.

Time to get the shovel.  Time to get the snow brush.  Time to put on a warm coat.

And I decided at this point to put on my new jacket.

20 minutes of digging and scraping and shoveling and “Hey buddy, d’ja you need a push?” later, I was on the road.  And sure enough, as I’m creeping down the highway at the blistering snow-induced speed of 25 miles per hour, my new jacket felt as warm as a cup of hot chocolate, and as comfortable as a hug from a loved one.

Even when I went to trivia last night at Brown’s, I received several compliments about the jacket from Browns’ able waitstaff.  Even got some good-natured ribbing from some of the trivia teams – Ed from A Few Cards Short of a Deck had the best one-liner, “Chuck, if you get a motorcycle with that jacket, are you going to name the bike ‘Motochrome?'”

Okay, two points to Ed for that one.

But you know what?  I like the jacket; it fits like it was custom-made for me.

It’s a new jacket – for my new future.