A few weeks ago, my boyfriend and I took a day trip from Portland to Seattle. We stopped at the army surplus store downtown and acted like predictable tourists: trying on sailor hats and taking pictures and debating whether or not the Tommy gun will ever come back in style.
”I tried it on, shrieked with delight, and strutted around the store. It was super comfy and I imagined all the things I could carry in it, the stylish ruggedness it would bring to all my outfits.
But it was 30 dollars, and I hadn’t budgeted for that. “Besides,” I said. “Do I really need a rucksack?” I put it back on the shelf, we went out to dinner, and headed back to Portland.
The next couple weeks played out like a montage of events that necessitated owning a German rucksack. My laptop bag broke. I went for a hike with my brothers. I spent the night at a friend’s house and needed to lug a change of clothes around. I literally had dreams about this rucksack on at least three separate nights, one of which involved us (meaning the rucksack and myself) frolicking in a field of daisies, laughing and smiling, without a care in the world.
”
And we did. It was a six-hour drive round trip (I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly apologize to Al Gore and the ozone layer), but it was worth it. The other day I loaded up my rucksack with overdue books and rode my bike to the library, and I was truly happy. I also avoided subsequent overdue charges.
Victory is mine!
So here’s my question for you, dear readers: From standing in line overnight for an H&M opening to bribing a friend in London to send you a limited-edition lipstick to driving 300 miles to buy a rucksack, what’s the farthest you’ve gone for fashion? What’s the farthest you would go?
