I'd been dreaming of a new coat; a short black number casual enough to wear at soccer games but tailored enough to assuage my biggest fashion fear of looking manly. I scoured the Internet, poured over catalogues and hit the mall but nothing suited my exacting specs until ... H&M!
It was perfect. It was short. It was black. It had a subtle military look to it without the double-breasted features that scream "SGT. PEPPER!" or the pea-coat toggles that belt out "PADDINGTON BEAR!" (to self-respecting Brits anyway). It was perfect and it was cheap.
But it was too tight! Rifle, rifle, rifle ... OMG nothing bigger than a 6 (and H&M runs small)! Quick, check in the back (there is no back), check another store (nope), I'll order it online (what do you mean you can't order online in the US?!). I left the mall in such a funk, thwarted and cross.
The next day I drove well out of my way to a very sketchy mall in a different county and there it was - Frederik, oh joy, oh rapture! -my coat! Merry Christmas to me! And even though the strap of my handbag often gets caught on the subtle epaulets and I wonder what good I could do in this world if I applied myself with such tenacity to unselfish pursuits, I smile every time I put that coat on.
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