Susan Palmer's Exquisite Now

Here’s the side of my formerly spiffy fake leather jacket, which I used to wear for work all the time, when I was getting paid to work. That’s, oh, six years back. Yesterday I dug it out of the back of my closet, where it had been undisturbed for six years. I tried it on, and it still fit. Looked pretty good. I figured I would wear it on the flight to Colorado for the writers conference so it wouldn’t get crushed in my suitcase.

Funny thing about fake leather. It ages badly. Everything was OK until I started to move, and by move I mean walking, pulling my suitcase, sitting down on the plane. Such wildness caused the fake leather to begin slowly shredding. I didn’t notice at first because really, who stops to check whether their clothes are falling apart? But when the plane landed and I stood up, there was this mess of tiny bits of something on my seat. At first I thought it was crumbs, and I guess I was right, but not the edible kind. I looked down at my sleeves and they were splitting and pealing.

I don’t even know what kind of mess I left in the taxi.

Fortunately, I brought backup clothing just in case of a wardrobe issue. But I was expecting something along the lines of a wine mishap.

Don’t buy fake leather. Really. Just don’t. Trust me on this.