This rusty suede vest has been a long lost gem in my life, hidden in the back of the closet by accident. Stuck somewhere in-between an old blue leather jacket I rarely wear, and an ill-fitting trench coat that I should have donated months ago. Somethings take time to receive the love they deserve. Sorry to keep you waiting pretty little vest (or should I say long). Because you are officially the bomb, and make all my basic tops look far from basic at all. And I like how much you make me feel straight out of That 70’s Show, and like Ashton Kutcher could be my boyfriend. I never should have accidentally forgotten about you, because looking back, I totally could have used more of you this past spring. But at least there is next spring.
Ever since I was a kid, I was always drawn to rusty colors. Not orange. No way. Rust. Probably it was because I spent too many hours a week looking through my parents yellow-tinged photos from the 70s. There was always so much rust being worn back then. Even on the furniture and on the wallpapers. It made me feel nostalgic for a life I never lived, but that I wished I lived. I love its earthiness and rawness. It’s the colors of hippies. A reminder of fall and renewal. But also a color of aging, like rust on an old gate. It’s a protecting color, full of warmth and comfort. It conjures up images of Jimi Hendrix playing at Woodstock. I feel like he wore a lot of rust. This vest is probably the one and only thing in my closet in this color right now, and that is why I cherish it. And I am so happy that I rediscovered it again.
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