Yesterday, I remembered this old Lip Service Asian-style smoker’s jacket thing that I bought ages ago when Avalon in Oakland was awesome and sold new shit and not “gently worn” basic bitch cardigans. Obviously, I’m too fat so sad to wear it anymore, but I paid a lot of money for it and I like it too much to sell on eBay or drop off at Goodwill. Plus, this was supposed to be my signature jacket for once I was turned into a vampire and I’m still clinging on to that, OK?
Chooch and I were bored yesterday evening. Henry was napping (what a shocker). I needed to take a break from the painting I’m currently working on, and that’s usually when I pull out the camera. Taking pictures always calms me down. Except for when Chooch gives me a hard time and then we fight and we hate each other and I make him an orphan and then Henry yells at both of us and there are tears and I threaten to smash my camera against a tombstone.
(OMG remember the unicorn in the wheelchair photoshoot when Chooch and I were unsupervised and far away from home!?)
Chooch was having a pretty good hair day so I yanked that jacket out of the back of my closet, knocking a bunch of other things off the hangers and then leaving them on the floor for Henry to pick up later. I had Chooch try it on and it actually kind of fit him so I asked him if he would wear it in pictures and he was like, “WOULD I?” as he gently stroked the faux-fur on the sleeves.
We originally had no theme in mind until we went in the backyard and saw that our neighbor Larry*had a shovel and wheelbarrow laying around, so Chooch grabbed the shovel and started digging. And that’s how this happened.
*(I have no idea who this guy is but Chooch literally knows every single person on our street; he’s much more people-y than I am)
My favorite memory of this jacket is from 1998, when I was having a big party at my townhouse (it was first post-high school apartment so you can imagine what went on there) for my friend Lisa’s birthday. One of my mom’s friends lived in the same townhome complex and saw me in the parking lot that night wearing this jacket. She called my mom and totally NARC’d on me, because she knew I didn’t have a job and made some passive aggressive comment about how “Erin is always wearing such nice, fancy clothes.” BECAUSE I HAD A CORPORATE AMERICAN EXPRESS CARD THAT MOMMY PAID FOR, mind your own business, cooze!
But yeah, my mom called me the next day and was all, “Blah blah called me and said…”
It wasn’t even THAT expensive, maybe like $150? Which I guess is kind of a lot of money for a sporadically-employed 18-year-old sometimes-telemarketer to spend on a jacket that she knew she was only going to wear twice, probably.
Hot Naybor Chris came out at one point to get something from his garage. He looked at us, did a double take, raised one eyebrow curiously, and then shrugged. God love him.
This was his own pose. I think he really liked wearing that jacket.
I just let him do whatever keeps him content and easy to work with. I learned that the hard way over the years.
And since Chooch was wearing his Never Shout Never shirt underneath the jacket, here is one of their new songs. They just released their new album last month and we were listening to it in the car yesterday when we went to visit our friend Ricky, and I felt like I was in a psychedelic haze by the time it played the whole way through.
I gotta hand it to Chooch for making me give NSN a second chance when he got into them two years ago, because I had way too hastily written off Christofer Drew. That kid is a fucking weirdo in all the best ways, and the new album is fantastic.