It was a rainy morning. I didn't have the energy to dress up today so I just grabbed my gray floopy hoodie to hide my lousily-tucked in shirt. I usually get all hyped up when it's raining, precisely because I get a chance to be all layer-y and fun, but lately it's just been blah.
Half-asleep in the car, I was watching the pedestrians waiting for their jeepneys to take them places under the rain, when one guy stood out in the crowd: he didn't have an umbrella, so he was somewhat drenched in the rain, but his jacket - omg his jacket - it was like a beacon of hope in an otherwise dreary scenario.
It was a vision in black - made of heavy textured fabric, it was double breasted, but the collar was strange and beautiful! It had a buckle and other details that made it look part-military, part-steampunk, and kinda Japanese-street-fashion, but still sleek and spiffy. It was amazing.
As we drove away from the crowd where the majestic coat stood clothing the otherwise regular bloke waiting on that regular sidewalk on a generally regular rainy Monday, I felt sorry and stupendously embarrassed for my lackluster attire. I used to love dressing up, but now, caught up in the haze of my 8-5 existence, and constantly nit-picking my salary for a budget that I need to follow, my supposed tiny bit of sense of style has somewhat disappeared.
If we all shouldn't judge books by their covers, then how come clothes make the man?
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