The Magic Jacket

 
When I was growing up, my grandmother taught me that everything can always

be made better, and one way is by decorating what you have. 

 


This is hardly a foreign concept to a human being – we’ve always scribbled on

everything, and as soon as patches and stickers existed we were all OVER that shit.

Who DIDN’T put stickers on a school binder or doodle on a desk or wall or monetary unit

(witness, for example, Canada’s recent rash of Spock money,

or the hobo nickels of the 1890’s and onward)? 

 


 

  Thus it was that when I became envious of those around me who

could have clothing reflecting their fandom interests (this was a few years before

the birthday bonanza of my 50th) I set about creating my own.

 

 The sleeves are festooned with “real” ships, from the shows and movies I love.  

 

  


 

In the end, it turned out that each and every element I put onto this jacket,

an old one a friend game me one time, was symbolic. Symbolic of things

which have ever brought me joy, or taught me positive lessons or

distracted me from horrors. Godzilla means my great grandmother,

and ancestry and what it means – but also Godzilla. And so on.

 

 

 

The placement of each element is deliberate, the patterns interconnecting.

 

Here’s my jacket.