A hurricane in a green leather skirt
The hunt for the green leather skirt started last night. I needed to wear that exact 1970’s long leather dress for a work thing this morning, and I couldn’t find it anywhere.
The culprit to blame was of course The Move. The skirt must have gotten lost while we moved. I always have to do everything myself, I spat at my partner, cheeks burning red with anger. It was your bright idea to stuff my clothes in the garbage bags. Now the bags are out back. Did you even check the bags before throwing them out? Now there’s a real vintage treasure at the dump. I’m almost hyperventilating.
I’m glad I’m not Angelina Jolie, planning to have her seventh child, because if I was a mother of seven children I would be committed to insane asylum in a blink of an eye. Just based on how angry I got just looking for the skirt. I was so mad! I was pulling stuff from shelves and blaming not just the spouse but the kids also. You always keep taking my things. Cat got her fair share too.
For the event at work, I wore black. A coworker tried to comfort me, sharing that the same thing happened to his wife when they moved. He accidentally threw out her clothes because they were also in a black garbage bag. Goes without saying that the one comforting was of course a man, who didn’t seem to have the slightest idea on how to consolidate a woman grieving. Could’ve at least said that now I can go shopping for more clothes, since I got all this room in the closet.
During the day I got a call from my partner. The skirt has been found. It was hiding under my bathrobe this whole time. Nice. Someone hid it under my bathrobe, which also, of course, was where it was not supposed to be. Not me. It could never be me.
Photo by Jason Hafso
The writer of this story is a member of the Mom of Finland community.
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