Spite: Or the Best Reason to Do Anything! Keep Your Grubby Eyeballs off My Jacket.

They say that living well is the best revenge, but I say that running someone down with your car is REALLY the best revenge. Adjacent to revenge is the other great motivator of action: spite (it says it right in the title.) I can even count the number of times I have sex with people out of spite (sorry if you are one of the people I banged for that very reason, but I tried to make it as pleasant for you as possible, knowing that you would tell the intended target and we would both have gotten some sort of sick satisfaction.) Are you shocked, my gentle reader? I hope not since you should have some insight into the rich tapestry that is my soul.

As we all know, I am not here to talk about my personal exploits (that may be a baldfaced lie, but just let it pass for the moment. You can send me a strongly-worded email later, and feel confident knowing that I will answer you. I may be a jerk, but I do know the meaning of propriety.) I AM here to relate the vast complexities of existence to sartorial simplicity. No doubt I have already made it painfully clear that "on sale" is always a fantastic reason to change a maybe purchase to a well duh I am already in the checkout line so it's too late purchase, but we have all been on the fence about that one item, the last of something on the rack, where we sort-of like it but aren't sure, knowing that if we pass it by it will be gone. Then someone slinks up beside you, looking over your shoulder at said item, trying to look like they are intent on some completely unrelated garment, all the while hovering over you for when in that moment of weakness you put it down. It's in that moment when you notice that opportunist lingering and leering askew that your asshole instincts kick in and you make that snap judgement that you may not necessarily want the thing in your hands, but you'd sooner die than let that usurper get their grubby mitts on it. If only they had exercised some subtlety in the matter... some discretion... you would have just let them have it, but THEY had to make it into some sort of competition... an event of olympic proportions. We've all been there and here is one case where that jerk has my eternal gratitude for riling me up.

These "go" but they don't "match."

I was in H&M (I am unashamed to admit that it is one of my favorite sources of cheap pieces that can make for a fetching outfit) when I found this one (and only one) tweed jacket. I agonized over whether or not it would work in my wardrobe or not. I had a tweed vest in an extremely similar fabric and style, but I knew that when two pieces are so close without really matching you run the risk of looking careless and sloppy. If you are going to match, then match. There is that no man's land between things that match and things that go, generally described as "matchy-matchy." If things truly match you don't even notice they do, whereas if they are slightly off they read as too much of whatever they may be. Think of the difference between a suit and single pieces that just don't quite fit. That was my dilemma standing in that dark and far-too-loud H&M basement when that little weasel of a man sidled up to me and started shuffling through the rack. It was very clear that he had taken notice of the jacket in my hand and at first tried to find another. It was after his failure to do so that precipitated his thinly veiled buzzard-like circling, picking up a random assortment of jackets and shirts, never moving more than four feet from me, even following me from place to place. Naturally, I had to tease him by returning it to its spot, watching his eyes light up, but never taking my hand from the hanger. It is the kind of assholism I learned from chess... making that losing move to titilate your opponent, only to take back that deliberate misstep. Psych!

Just tuck the price tags inside.
There is no reason to cut them

Of course I bought it, and it has served me well. I have not looked back. Not once. No, that's a lie since I did have my back-up plan where I would return it... to a different store, perhaps in a different borough or even across the river in Jersey City. I had conceived that oh so brilliant plan on the spot in the store knowing that it would give me a month to make my final purchase decision and keep it out of those undeserving hands. 

I'm gonna return that purchase and keep the money.
You can do that, you know!

 

That is my second rule of spite shopping: you can always bring it back and get the full satisfaction of sticking it to your target without any of that financial or wardrobe space commitment. Then again, if you keep it, that article of clothing becomes a trophy making for an even sweeter outfit. Trust me when I say that every time I put that jacket on I swell with pride at my victory.





Coming soon: Underpants and How to Tell if Someone is About to Steal Yours.