How Shipbound Bought his Leather Jacket

Six years ago, I became a vegetarian; primarily at first because my ex RD had decided to, and it made things easier. However, I became convinced that not only was it a healthier lifestyle, but I believed the way in which livestock in North America is raised and slaughtered to be inhumane. RD was actually a vegan for many years and remains a vegetarian (though he used to consume tuna like there was no tomorrow!), but I; I have fallen from grace. On ships, it is practically impossible to remain a vegetarian and consume enough non-animal protein to stay healthy. So I have taken to eating small portions of fish or chicken and once a week, I may indulge and have a steak. I was a lousy vegetarian anyway because I LOOOOOVE meat. My favourite dishes are all meat-eriffic: Butter Chicken, Goat Roti, Gnocchi with Bragiole and/or meatballs, BBQ Ribs, Curried Lamb. Mmmmmm, bacon. Ok enough. It’s 2:30 in the morning, and I don’t have room service for the next 2 days. Despite my reclaimed carnivorousness, I hadn’t recently entertained the idea of purchasing a leather jacket. If meat is murder, then leather and fur must be, well… really bad.

Last week, the ms Big Zed was in Kusadasi, Turkey and I went out shopping with Jenny and Jesse (The 4th member of the ‘J’ club, Joy, didn’t wanna come, so we temporarily removed the ‘J’ from her name and called her “Oy” for a week. Our friend Erin who accompanied us on our evening in Venice was granted Oy’s ‘J’, and thus dubbed “Jerin”. This all must seem quite silly, but it’s great fun). The order of the day was to find Jesse a suit and suit accessories. When the ship was here last month, I bought 4 shirts, 2 ties and a sweater for about 50 bucks, and I had seen a little mall with 5 suit stores. So since I can obviously sniff a bargain out anywhere, I was appointed to lead our intrepid little triumvirate. Well, Kusadasi is a little confusing, and since it has already been determined in these very pages that my super power is the ability to get lost, it took us about an hour and a half to find that damn mall. (We did come across a “Pizza Pizza”, a Canadian chain, which proclaimed on its sign, in English, to be ‘proudly Turkish’.) However, we were having a wonderful time, and there was gelato to be had, so it all worked out. We eventually found the mall, and went to a wonderful store where a wonderful saleswoman served us some wonderful apple tea. Jesse bought a great suit and some shirts and ties. I bought a gorgeous tie (for 7 Euros) and Jenny bought a little sun dress at another store. When we get back to Kusadasi next month, I intend to go to the same store and buy another suit. They were that nice.

So we were walking back to the ship, a little tired and a little hungry. Leather goods are ubiquitous here. The quality is sometimes questionable, and the designs are frequently dated to say the least; there were at least 4 or 5 shops that had jackets that Cher would have rejected during her “Half-Breed” days. Sales people are pushy here too, and repeated calls of 'My friend come spend your money here I’ll give you a good deal’ don’t really inspire me to part with my hard earned dinero (I am one of the cheapest people you’ll ever meet. Hell, I cut my own hair for 10 years just to save a few bucks!) But we passed a more reputable shop, and I saw this great black biker jacket. ("Thank you! I saw it in a window, and I couldn't resist it!"). So on a whim, and NOT AT ALL intending to buy anything, we went in. Well, they didn’t have that jacket in my size. (Turkey tip number 2: Try EVERYTHING on. Sizes on labels mean nothing. I have Medium shirts that I swim in and Large shirts I can’t button up over my pecs [or rather – pec-lets. They’re getting there…] For Turkey tip # 1, please refer to a previous blog entry). (Another amusing side note: When I was in Istanbul looking at shirts, the vendor told me it was possible to ‘taste’ them. It took me about a minute to figure out he meant ‘try’. But I digress.) . The salesman offered the 3 of us apple tea, which we have learned to accept graciously at this point. (Though by this point, I had had so much apple tea, that my teeth were floating). He brought out about 15 jackets that, as I said, I had NO intention to buy. Some were too small, some were too big, some were too too... y’know. But most importantly, they were all leather. I’m a nominal vegetarian, or at least I try to be. I have canvas running shoes. PETA sends me address labels every so often, though I’ve never joined. I shouldn’t be buying leather. Jenny, however, has fallen in love with this long tan jacket with a fox collar that she looks adorable in. It is, unfortunately, one size too small. No Sale. Jesse is trying on stuff, but he’s just bought a suit and shoes, so he’s spent enough money for one day. No Sale. We were just about to leave – we’d finished the tea – when the salesman brings out this dark reddish-brown jacket. I love the colour, I love the cut, but, and I repeat, I HAD NO INTENTION OF BUYING ANYTHING. But what the hell, I try it on.

The ‘J’ club gasps.

I. Look. Amazing. This jacket was made for me. There were cows born merely for the purpose of dying to give up their hide so I could look this good in this jacket. I get a pit in the bottom of my stomach. I can’t buy this. I’m going to throw up. I look at the price tag. 800 Turkish Liras (which is really 800 million Turkish Liras, but they drop the million part to make purchases seem less jaw-dropping). 400 Euros. About 660 American dollars. Oh thank God, it’s too freakin’ expensive, let’s get the hell out of here. No, this is Turkey, they expect you to bargain. I’m sorry I love it but it’s too much thank you for the tea no no we’ll give you a special price my friend 500 dollars. Jenny, getting into the spirit of things, yells out “300 dollars!” And the price war had begun.

When all is said and done, the absolute lowest they could go, the “you’re-killing-me-and- taking-food-away-from-my-family’s-table” price was $350. I thought I was going to throw up. (Jesse, ever the gentleman, said that if I bought it and threw up, he’d buy it from me). We pooled our money, which was 200 US dollars, 60 Euros, and 60 million Turkish Lira. They offered us more apple tea (Oh God no. Thank you, but oh God no), put my purchase in a big thick dark brown plastic bag that matched my jacket, and told us to come back any time.

I didn’t throw up. Jenny suggested that I sleep in the jacket the first night, as an inauguration. I tried, but after about 20 minutes, it got just too damn hot. I did a little catwalk around the OB in it though (Officer’s Bar for the uninitiated). I wore it out for our late Venice stroll a couple of nights later – there was a slight nip in the air – and it felt and smelled and looked great. I wore it with a cute t-shirt I bought in Barcelona (3 Euros) and my new Levis 501s (10 Euros – the same ones I mentioned in my last post). It now hangs in my closet, the single most expensive thing I have ever bought for myself. (The cars don’t count, they weren’t just for me. And the suit that I got at Bloomie’s when RD and I were in NYC 11 years ago was $250, but it was half price). I’m still stunned I was so impulsive. And I still feel a little guilty a full week later.

But Damn! I look good.