Men’s jackets that don’t have a man to call their own are sad jackets. We want happy jackets. You want to put your jacket on and feel the warm embrace of a long-lost friend. A cloak of cool surrounds your frame. In your unending quest to find the best of the men’s jackets, you have come across many travelers looking for the same thing. You are different. In this universe, all the jackets fit you and there are no wars, because you have obliterated the giant jacket-eating moths.
Men’s jackets play a large part in your roleplaying as a pokemon trainer. You blend seamlessly into character and choose your pokemon. Your best friend has volunteered to play the pokemon. You face up against your enemy, the neighborhood bully, Ralph. His pokemon? His fists.
Your friend goes in. You call out commands but your friend says that he can do it. Regardless, you yell out, Ted-chu, slash. And Ted scratches Ralph instinctively. Ralph then scratches Ted with his fists. Ted goes down. You’re left with one choice. Run from the battle.
You make it to a safe location and call Ted. Ted seems ungrateful for the help you gave him during your battle. Ted claims that this is it. He isn’t friends with you anymore.
So, you go buy some ice cream with your cool jacket on. You take the ice cream to Ted’s house, where he still lives with his parents. They say that they haven’t seen Ted. So you message Ted and find out that, yes, he went to the ER to see if he lost too much blood.
He did. You come up to his room after lying to the nurse that you are family. You see Ted there. And you place the ice cream on his stomach, the only place where he isn’t covered in a cast. And, he laughs because he can’t use a spoon. So you do it for him. You laugh together.
Get the Look
Denim Cute-boy #57
Your friends have called you cute ever since they met you, commenting on your awesome style of men’s jackets. You found this to be acceptable, as they too, were cute. You realize you’re dreaming. And nothing says that you’re in a dream, like denim jackets.
Yes, the smooth feeling that comes with the mint freshness of denim. You go to your dream-favorite coffee shop, The Ares-Athena-Artemis-Aphrodite Café of Hopes and Dreams, LLC.
It’s magical because there’s nobody but other denim-jacket wearers. The most sublime of all of the dream-like states that you could possibly be in. You look down and you’re wearing jeans too.
You instantly grow wings and fly to a denim castle, where everything is denim-covered. It’s a little intense at first, but you begin to think that all of this magic is coming from somewhere…denim magic.
At long last, you reach the king of the Denim Clan (a previously unknown figure in Irish lore). He takes one look at you and declares that he has adopted you. You have to engage in denim combat on Tuesdays and Sundays. You claim that you’re too real for the denim kingdom. He calls you uppity. You become denim-offended.
Get the Look
Have You Seen My Band?
You are a secret agent, Agent 3.141592: Agent Pi. You’ve worked for many governments over the years—wearing a cool, leather jacket. The music industry has a vested stake in how some governments run. The music industry wants you to help sabotage the governments. This way, the music industry can control the world.
Your earphones double as a secret radio transmitter that you alone can hear, as your ear is fitted with a state-of-the-art technology that vibrates in the key of C#. No one else knows this.
They told you that you should shave your beard and you said, ha! My beard is who I am!
It is, indeed. As it will eventually save your life, because you’ve let yourself go and have stopped shaving. In three years time, the music industry will have turned on you, forcing you into the shadows.
You’ve been eating too many chips and not keeping up with things. But the one thing that has kept you sane over these three, long, years…that beautiful jacket. It’s saved your life more times than any other fellow agent. Your most trusted allies have always been men’s jackets.
Get the Look
Raining Felines and Canines
You’re lost in the forest. Your raincoat is the only saving grace of this situation. It’s red. It lets the animals know that they shouldn’t mess with you. You think about your family back home. You wish you hadn’t gone on that intense skydiving trip, only to fall out of the plane and safely land in the middle of nowhere.
You get the sense of oneness that comes with the rain. It’s a white noise that creates a type of tranquil state. It’s ok that you’re lost because this coat can take you anywhere. You wish someone would’ve jumped out too—to keep you company—but you understand, it’s not everybody’s cup of tea.
You know that the pilot got lost around the time you hit the Canadian border. It’s moose territory, so you’ll have to use your inside voice. You pick up some kindling and begin to build a fire and shelter. You pause for a second and think, do I really need shelter when I have this great jacket?
You’ve been fending off bears for a while now. They seem to understand and know who you are. They know you by the most powerful item on you—your red raincoat: the symbol of survival and wisdom. You’ve been foraging, hunting, and bear whispering. You know exactly how the world works.
Your team called off their search after 28 months of looking. You were able to survive that long. Why? Your red coat. That’s why.
But in your mind—you know it’s time to go back home. You walk back down to your house. You travel several hundred miles and come to find that 50 years have passed. You find your home abandoned. You look into the mirror. You have aged. Your coat hasn’t. You weep.
Get the Look