Globalboho.Life: Long-gaming, the autumnal Passion of the perfect… whathaveyous, or “It’s about that time~”

…some items I’ve been searching for the #perfectforme #Globalboho renditions of for years, Decades really.
#caseinpoint: the #anorak, #parka or whatever.

After my Dad & his brothers 70s clotheshorsing around bracketing my childhood, my passion for Menswear really found its stride in uniforms scavenged from #armynavysurplus stores as much as vintage shops. The regulated sizing was an intro turn-on, & I was deconstructing systematically perfect jackets for dudes into whatever sawed off madness was floating me, oversized or tight. All of that probably led to the ease of my first NYC real design room gig being with Avirex, the crew that made real bomber jackets & all its derivatives de riguer in sportswear, from Top Gun to  Busta Rhymes style, even though they were doing a lot of wovens by the time I co-op’d with them.

But once all the play and conjecture on everyone else’s frames ended, the 2 personal extremes on the spectrum of the ideal anorak eluded me. My proportional love was always going to be askew due to arriving on earth with long limbs & embracing that weird journey, #violentforfun #sowingmoreoatsthanyou #tomboycred and a #virgoan need for some semblance of structure & order all the same.

Besides pining for the sexy, cropped bombers Avirex made for chicks[ yet still not being able afford them even Working for them lol- #Fashiontrenchesreality lol #ohyouthoughtitdbefreesinceyouworkherelol?] I came close to the extremes of what I envisioned without having to make it my damn self twice.

Honorable mention goes to Winter of 2007 in Harlem- long enough, yet the slim fit & paltry lining was off as well as the fur… but I was in NYC so my Bizarrely imagined strain of Black Russian [Pushkin] mafia / Siberian /#nanookofthenorth fashistisms was spread across iT, an also almost perfect long shearling & canal street knockoffs of Russian trapper caps.  In Hindsight I’m really seeing 2007 was the first season of almostperfects just not panning out anymore lol…and the stylistically speaking #proofoflife of growing up across the water from Canada and its carnage of going to school for 12 lake effect snow winters releasing its “All this mess in necessary” grip;

1st place Almostness goes to Everett, WA 2017, where I visited a drapey, heavy knit sweater version of an anorak to eyefuck across three weeks ( no…seriously. At a mall. in a suburb. And all that entails. Yep. I was wounded by love), my animus talking me out of it until someone else took me out of my misery by taking it home lol. You could tell it was going to pill like a motherfuck, and the olive was not my one precisely working Olive but it still hurt to not get it, to not do the #itwilldoalmostdance anymore.

I never even noticed I gave up my pursuit of this Passion of the Perfect Parka until last year ogling that sweatercoat. The decade of chasing the sun through art residencies had lessened its bite in my cold in 70 degrees neck,  helped by Globalboho suitcase living[#space!], a maturing frugality that knows how much the fur I Desire lining its hood(& its body #being100) costs,  & no  reason to Have Russian trapper caps until the winter of 2016 when I couldn’t even find them in the mountains of New Mexico.

But for my Lanky frame~ perfection has to be oversized to the point of “Stolen from your own personal, huge shouldered Scythian” to riff on folds of Heian-esque decadence Keanu, anoraking.OR shrunken & hugging in a bionic woman kinda way that makes me look like a mercenary that will kill you for taking the honeypot after you had no choice But to. #thisiswhyididntdowomenswear lol.  And my tonalities are not traditional[ go figure lol] so only certain shades of Olive drab absently light me up.


And making it myself? I know one day I am finally going to dive into the Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat pool design-wise. I’m wired to badassed coats and Outfitting as such. Even at my most frugal[ by choice or otherwise lol] a coat of some modicum of “like Damn!” gravitates towards me, usually around my  September birthday or Christmas, bearing the markers of getting the lasts in the heat of summer before fall is shipped to stores or the lasts of Fall when  end of year sales madness is afoot. Can’t say being raised by shopaholics and clothes addicts aint teach me nothing applicable lol.

I release into the on the road thrift store or gypsy pile wilds to make room for the new to show itself, answering to my grown-assed woman self as well as pleasing the wild-haired inner chile each time.


Luckily, we  have a terse budget  and can be easily convinced of the bona fides of each other’s styles. This year has been no exception. Minime’s demands were surprising, left field, really…and if all goes well, deserve a post of their own closer to DOB bacchanals.  I mean… really surprised.

My lineup pick? In a season of Fashists going full frontal on the oversized lore spoken of above, encouraging all to go find out wtf I’m talking about[ & it is hard to come back from that after a true taste, so be warned, yall]… After all this time the shrunken, perfectly toned anorak of my Lucid Dreams, with fur that I can’t even look in the eye without swooning…found its way…to me. It’s the exact opposite proportion being pushed, fits exactly the way I’ve always dreamed, cinches under my tahts and grazes the ass at the perfectly potent point… 20180827_1239011719544027.jpg


…and took twenty five years of Globalboho patience to manifest without making my dang self…

Telling you, my #globalbohostyle Longgame is hardcore.

…& finefine~ I’m GLAD… I did not get that sweater coat last year. Okay? …geez. It’s like you want to Encourage me to jack some random dude for the other spectrum of the parka passion or something.



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