The coat was a matter of debate for several days. I carried the photo around in my purse, showed it to various people: clients, friends, strangers. "Should I buy this coat?" First, let me say that I spend most of my time dusty, working outside - my clothes have function, namely to keep me from the elements. I have some lovely things I couldn't live without: my wool camel coat, a tunic from Mavi, some pieces from a designer friend. I LOVE clothes, I just seldom buy them and when I do I don't form a committee to make the decision for me. The only time I can wear fun things is the few weeks I'm clean and horseless in Istanbul each year. And why the hell do I want a coat that looks like a caricature of the gothic atrocity I was at thirteen. I have this sudden craving to listen to Peter Murphy.
So - I made this huge deal about buying the coat. And finally at three am, the middle of the night last night, I decide to purchase it. Content with the decision I went to sleep.
This morning I check my phone and the first email is from the credit card company. They want to know if I authorize the "atypical" catalog purchase made in the middle of the night. I laugh and say, "Yes! That's my coat." I'm dreaming of my coat as they list off five more suspicious charges - craigslist, apple, etc. "No - I did not make those charges." We cancel the card and I start biting my fingernails.
I log on to my lappy to find that I cannot access the internet because I've been inundated with viruses. Viruses of all shapes and sizes. Viruses and babies of viruses. I stare blankly at the screen and feel like I've had an appendage removed. How do people live without a lappy? How will I write? If I write, how will I post it? Is it okay to write if I cannot post it?
Eight hours later everything is restored, well, everything except iTunes. I don't know how I can lose a program, but it's lost. I did a lot of writing in my notebook for six of those eight hours that I spent on hold with technical support - it was good to realize I could still do that, writing, in notebooks. In the end it's discovered that the anti-virus stopped working during an update a long time ago and it took the virus inundation before I realized the program was corrupted.
The moral of this story is that the coat saved my credit score and my identity. When that coat arrives I'm going to build it its own closet. I will also give the coat its own mix tape filled with Bauhaus, Christian Death and Cocteau Twins. I might also buy it a pair of boots with buckles. And then I will visitahpookishere and make her design a tattoo of the coat to place on my left calf.