Wednesday, August 13, 2014

On Synthetic Leather

When I was in fifth grade, my friend Julia tried to sell me her pleather jacket for $20. It was a trench coat and it was more patent pleather than plain pleather, and I almost bought it because a. it was definitely featured in the Spice Girls movie; b. I have always loved clothes; c. I have always loved pleather. Flash forward to my junior year abroad when I found myself in the mother of all Topshops while visiting my dear friend and former co-blogger Alyssa in Edinburgh. Synthetic materials abounded and a pleather jacket spoke to me from the racks. It had a voice like Kate Moss but it looked like an Olsen twin and I needed it. It was motorcycle style and came with a removable fur collar and on principle, I buy anything that comes with a removable fur collar. Bang for your back, can I get a wut wut?


Aside from being the most versatile thing in my closet, my pleather motorcycle jacket is also the founding member of my synthetic clothing collection. Employee No. 2 is a pair of pants that I bought for New Year's Eve 2k12 because I wanted to ring in the New Year looking like a Zara mannequin and since I don't have a bald white faceless head, I had to settle on a pair of pleather pants to get the job done. Despite having torn in the backside (read: butt) multiple times, these pants have proved themselves to be the key to a fun Saturday night so long as the top half of my arse is covered all night.

I knew you were synthetic when you walked in
The rest of the gang includes a pair of suede shorts and a suede fringe jacket, both of which are awesome in their own way. I won't bore you with the details but I will tell you that I absolutely could not afford the suede fringe jacket and I muttered "Uh oh, what have I done" to myself as I walked out of Anthropologie with it in my shopping bag. You live, you learn, you love, ya know?

I Zara'd my way home from work yesterday with the intention of buying a suede fringe skirt to match the aforementioned jacket, but upon entering the store and saying a nice g'day to the security guard, I made eye contact with a black pleather dress on the sale rack. This was it. The dream man of synthetic materials. I couldn't live without, it couldn't live without me, and it was $19.99. 4 realz. So I bought it. Dur. I also bought a pair of pleather shorts that were $25 because I couldn't find the suede skirt and at the end of the day, it really didn't matter which side of the faux-cow my material came from, I just wanted something to cover my bottom, though the shorts barely do.

So that's the story of my synthetic clothing collection. Don't light a cigarette near me, I will catch on fire. And not in a cool Hunger Games Opening Ceremonies kind of way.

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