Another night of rain. I've barely had a chance to wear my winter outwear this season.
I was recently gifted a vintage fur coat. My mother in law brought it over - a posthumous gift from my wife's grandfather's girlfriend, Denise. Denise did not know me, but her gorgeous taste in coats has been my lucky fortune twice. A few years ago I was gifted her vintage cashmere cape. Such a great cape, very warm, but not always ideal for using one's arms. I purchased elbow length gloves for it, and love to wear it for dressy occasions where I'm not lugging a bag.
This new coat is a dream. My wife and her sisters are not into it. It's either too girlie, too second hand, or too animal for them. For me, I feel like a damn Russian princess in it. It is a gorgeous, regal, like a female Jonathon Rhys Meyers in the Tudors... It is monogrammed with Denise's initials: D.E.R. It is made of 'The Finest Beaver' and had a tag sewn into it that reads the same. I stitch ripped it out for future upcycling fun. It's Alfred Sung - my mother in law says likely from the 70's. And because it is vintage, I don't feel guilty. It was already out there. I don't think it should be tossed in the garbage; it should be used and worn to shreds. I've worn it every chance I've had since I got it. But between global warming and the rain, it's not been nearly enough.
I'm bragging about my vintage fur coat because it seems like a good luxury to get as a gift as I've entered my year of nothing new. It's old, but new to me, and brings a bit of a glamorous, yesteryear thrill to an everyday outing. And because I'm focusing on feeling a bit of abundance rather than on the annoying things that I'm struggling with or need to pay for.
So very time for bed,