Reposting out of sheer excitement that fleece-lined bomber jackets are all over the place right now. Not as a badge of my foresight, more bragging about the foresight of a father who held on to it. Do I still want a Burberry one? Oh God yes. Will this have to do for now? Yup.
And… I found this mecca for amazing vintage flight jackets. The Alpha Vintage B-3 is mine.
From Nov. 2009:
You know the premise of the new movie, Brothers? In a nutshell, she assumes her husband is dead—so she moves on and finds new love. When I had heard that my father’s leather and shearling bomber jacket from college was lost after my brother hijacked it, I mourned. [See this post I wrote on its existence and subsequent loss.] I bought a leather Theory bomber jacket [seen here] with a rabbit fur collar that I’ve found a lot of joy with. Yes, I’d say we’re pretty happy together.
I’m debating whether to “ask” for it, or just take it.
It’s so much warmer than I remember. Perfectly distressed leather—the result of two turns on two different Wodehouse men.
My negotiation skills are being exhumed from my darkest depths; from a different life decades ago when having an older brother meant needing something valuable to trade in order to secure the better bed, the better seat in the car, the softer pillow, the GOLDEN THIMBLE!!!!, etc.
I must. Have. This jacket.
Anyway, don’t you think it’d be up to my dad anyway?
Update: it’s mine.