I admit, I had no idea what “DIY” meant. I had to ask a friend. My friend laughed at me and said, “of course you don’t know what ‘do it yourself’ means”. She may be right, but when it comes to fashion, I’m a Molly Ringwald from Pretty In Pink at heart. Way back in my high school days, before Seattle’s beloved Macklemore made it cool, I was scouring thrift stores. My favorite haunt, while growing up in Portland, was the Red, White and Blue Thrift Store. My sister and I would sift through endless racks of foul-smelling clothing for the perfect long black coat, a Hamburg hat, or a pair of black pointy stilettos that would complete our preppy/punk/new wave image we tried desperately to cultivate.
I would never buy it, but I have been the lucky recipient of fabulous furs from my mother-in-law. I wear it with pride and have been surprised by the warm reception fur receives in the progressive town of Seattle. Just in case someone wants to throw Heinz Ketchup on me, I always carry a bag of hemoglobin, so I can fire back. The only fur I’ve actually purchased was at a yard sale on Capitol Hill. This crazy white rabbit fur caught my eye amongst the racks of dirty bathrobes and house coats. I made my boyfriend (now husband) stop so I could throw down $2 on a white rabbit fur coat, complete with Michael Jackson shoulder wings. I’m horribly allergic to it, so I load up on Benadryl when I bust it out. What a statement that bunny makes!
My husband stopped by a neighbor’s yard sale and came home with this Ken doll. He taped it to the bumper of my Jeep ( also known as “The Family Dumpster”), thinking he was really funny. I decided to embrace this talisman as our protector and ambassador of goodwill. I often see people smiling up at me as they walk by my car. I’m hoping St. Ken can say to the world, “I’m sorry I’m a road-rage-aholic, for I know not what I do. I am truly a kind and loving person when I am not driving.”