I’ve always been notoriously bad at putting coats on. I know, I know, what is wrong with me, right? What kind of idiot can’t put on a coat? Well … me. I cannot. And Jesus, it gets like 20 times worse when I’m drunk.
It was all so much easier when I was little and my mom would hold my coat open for me, and I could just slip my arms in. “One arm at a time, honey.”
Now when I’m moving a million miles a minute, my arm gets stuck in the lining or I realize one arm is inside out half way through putting my coat on, leading me to curse like a sailor and struggle like a dim wit T-rex caught in a net. What can I say, I’m the least sexiest human being whilst putting on a coat.
But turns out, arm holes are for suckers. Yeah. You heard it here first. You’re a complete square if you wear your coats like this …
It’s all about the chic drape over your shoulders, kids. How glamorous, right? Just like when you’re chilly and your man friend gives you his tuxedo jacket to drape over your shoulders (that’s a thing, right?) … well, now that’s how all jackets should be worn. Why? Because cool people said so.
That fashion editor waiting for a cab, making imaginary phone calls. Kim Kardashian and all Kim Kardashian-like folk. Literally EVERYONE who is ANYONE is all about the drape (yes, that was double dipped in sarcasm). Why people are taking such a chic stand about not using armholes, well, I have no clue. Maybe they resemble a dim witted T-Rex, too, whilst putting on coats and said down with them … who knows.
Now … like I said before, I move at a million miles per minute. Even when I try to take it down a notch, I’m hauling ass somewhere. So tell me, “cool people,” how does one keep a chicly draped coat over their shoulders whilst hauling ass on an average day? Hmm? The answer is they don’t.
::::Strutting, strutting, strutting … coat falls to the ground::: FUCK! :::picks coat up, drapes back over shoulders … struts, struts, struts … coat falls yet again and girl sets fire to coat, keeps strutting::::
And when the coat is chicly draped, how do you do anything? You literally would have to retrieve your cocktail from the bar with T-Rex arms. I mean, completely and utterly hilarious, but annoying as balls. All you can really do is just stand there and look super pissed off and important. Gross.
I get it, it’s romantic, it’s chic, it’s very “worldly” and can give you this imaginary power of feeling special. Drape a coat over your shoulders, throw on some red lipstick, dark shades, and you’re suddenly a big deal (see look, I did it in the above pic … don’t I look like an ass?). That man across the street really isn’t peeing on a building, he’s a secret paparazzi snapping pics of you. Riiiigggghhht.
But for the girl on-the-go who doesn’t have a driver, or an assistant, or anyone to help her with anything and takes two trains to get to work (yep, I’m talking about myself … halla) … yeah no. I don’t have time to casually frolic or waltz down the street. I’m too busy plowing through slow walkers and giving dirty looks to morons who tell me to smile. And dammit when I want to reach for my cocktail, my coat will have to enjoy being on the ground, because ain’t nobody got time for T-rex arms.
So unfortunately I will have to only do the drape in the privacy of my bedroom where I like to pretend I’m Kate Moss (wait … no I don’t … STOP LOOKING AT ME!), or when I get a boyfriend to drape his tux coat over my chilly shoulders. But until then I will continue to resemble a dim witted T-Rex whenever I put on a coat. Come and get it, boys.