Compost Studios

I stepped into the Embassy store today to kill some time before heading to the Metro and walked right into a sale. A happy accident. The Embassy store has agreements with a select group of local vendors—jewelers, artists, craftsman, potters, tapestry and lace makers. They come in for special events and sell their wares at a discount, usually 10-25 percent. The Embassy store also sells items VAT free, meaning you do not have to pay the 24 percent sales tax that’s charged everywhere else in Belgium. So add the VAT savings onto the special sale prices and an Embassy store sale is something worth paying attention to. Of course, the store is very small and so is the selection—but I always enjoy taking a look around.

Today Cliff the Leather Guy is there with his wares. He has about ten jackets and some bags with him. I think he makes the clothing himself. He’s doing on-the-spot leather repairs for those with handbags or leather clothing needing work. I casually look over the handbags, and pick up a beautiful violet-colored suede purse. As soon as I put it on my shoulder, I know it isn’t for me. The bag is really heavy; it would kill my back. So I give the suede one last loving stroke and put it back on the table.

I walked past the Kipling bags (with the Kipling bag I’d bought here last month slung over my shoulder) and look at the leather jackets on a whim. One catches my eye immediately—it’s white leather, mid-hip length, has a zip front, sleek and simple styling, with two patch pockets. When I touch it, I give a small sigh—lambskin. Is there anything softer and more buttery?

I search for a size or price tag—I find neither. Oh well, I don’t need a jacket. I move on.

I peruse all the aisles and come back around to side with the leather jacket . It has me caught in its gravitational force. Cliff the Leather Guy sees me in orbit, gets a whiff of my longing, and strolls over.

“Can I help you?”

I ask him the price on the jacket.

“150 euros.” Hmmmm, not bad. Actually, quite good, especially for lambskin.

Cliff says, “Would you like to try it on?”

I’m dressed in a turtleneck and parka because the weather has turned cold again. I’m in Levis and sporting a pair of brown suede Skechers on my feet. I’m not feeling like a woman who should be wearing a sleek white leather jacket.

I hesitate just for a moment, then peel off my parka, my scarf, and drop my purse in a heap on the floor. Cliff helps me put the jacket on. It feels big. I’m almost relieved. Thank God it doesn’t fit! Game over!

But then Cliff reaches for its twin, the only other jacket of its kind that he has. He helps me put it on. It feels wonderful. Lightweight, soft, and comfortable across the shoulders. I absolutely hate any item of the clothing that is snug across the shoulders or comes up high under the arms. Fitted pants, yes. Fitted shirts, never.

There isn’t a mirror in the store so I have to walk to a bathroom down the hall to see how it looks.

One glimpse in the mirror and I know there is no turning back. I have to have this jacket. It hits at exactly the right spot on my hips, the proportions are perfect, the back is shaped by three seams, it is unbelievably comfortable, and I feel instantly hip.

Why wear one of my dowdy cardigans or hoodies on cool spring and summer days when this jacket has so much style? I could pair it with jeans or a skirt, dress it up or down. It doesn't have details like lapels or buttons that will date it and shorten its closet life. Perhaps most importantly, it transforms me in much the same way as my haircut did last week: It changes the way I view myself.

My predictable Good Grrrl Voice tries one more time to dissuade me. She knows I always agonize over purchases and take forever to decide. She hates when I’m impulsive. She’s proud I’m normally so practical.

She whispers: WHITE leather? This so not you! It’s kind of tacky in a Hollywood sort of way and you never wear white. You’re Miss Earthtone! Miss Safari Jacket! Miss Eddie Bauer Cardigan! Miss Denim! Miss Fleece!

I turn my head back to the mirror and check myself out one more time. Who you callin' tacky, Grrrl Friend? I tell Miss Predictable Good Grrrl to shut up and live a little, to be bold and have the courage to do something different. Life’s too short to put yourself in a box and stay there. Celebrate the moment. Allow yourself to change!

After all, it’s spring. I’m feeling better than fine. I'm shedding my expat fat. I'm walking for miles. And I’m in LOVE with this jacket and anyone who doesn’t like the object of my affection can stuff it.

I walk out the bathroom door with my credit card in my hand, ready to charge into a new phase of life. I feel like a rebel. I'm going to be a woman who dares to wear white AFTER Labor Day. : )

April 28, 2006