a soft breeze. the sun high in the sky.

i knew, deep down, i needed to cover more skin. that as the sun dipped, i would begin to feel the chill, and it would start whining despite my blissful status quo.

this would annoy my partner in crime. and the dogs.

“i need a hoodie,” i declared as we sat, tangled with leashes and anticipation. “before we proceed.”

we had been discussing my enjoyment of the weather. of how my partner in crime was layered, already feeling the chill, but i was lounging in shorts and a thin shirt, eagerly feasting on the fall winds.

“you don't have a hoodie that will work?” my partner in crime asked, seeming surprised.

“no,” i insisted. “not... right now.” i felt pleased with my perceived ability to convey the complex weave of information surrounding my clothing status. “and i do not want to disappoint the dogs.”

“there are a lot of stores nearby,” my partner in crime said. “we can stop by, get you a hoodie before we go.” he handed me his phone, deferring the decision as to where to seek out the garment in question. it was only fair. he was wrapped sufficiently. i was not.

i isolated a target that i felt sure would have what i needed. hood. zipper. front pocket. fabric that did not scream against my skin. it was not clear to me why i felt this clone-of-many would be able to provide for my needs. yet, i felt sure.

“is this one okay?” i asked. it was 8 minutes away. i had not been given acceptable proximity parameters.

i was reassured that the proximity was sufficient. i thought of hoodies as we drove.

as i stood in front of the glass doors, i was still thinking of hoodies. the glass doors did not move. i tried one. it was locked. i tried another. it was locked. i stood in front of the sliding door in the center, designed to know when it was needed. it did not know.

i hopped. it seemed to recognize me. i was now no longer thinking about hoodies, but doors.

i was greeted by colorful racks of clothing in every direction. garish patterns and overwhelming textures. they were distasteful, made my skin ache looking at them. i tried to put them out of my mind. their signifiers made it clear that this was the section forbidden to me. it was full of color and choice. i needed to find the men's clothing.

i traversed the edge of the store, guard up, fearful that some employee might seek out conversation and ask what i was looking for. i knew what i needed. hoodie. hoodie was what i came for. but i did not know if i could perform the social dance of explaining to them what a hoodie was. language, i knew, was dangerous. it could constrict me into purchasing a non-hoodie, something the employee understood as hoodie but was not.

thankfully, no such confrontation came. i stumbled through the pet section, feeling much safer now that i had managed to push past the forbidden zones. plush and dog beds and collars and leashes were familiar to me. i tarried only a moment to touch the fabric on a set of plush dog stairs. molly had trouble getting on the bed. she would like it. i noted the price and moved on, continued my hunt.

suit jackets informed me i had made it into the sections i was allowed to peruse without fear. i could spend time now pursuing my quarry.

i started to feel confident. it was the correct season and i had chosen my hunting grounds well, a land where everyone layered, knowing the winds would change.

i touched fabrics and looked at garments. many were too warm. i needed a hoodie, not a jacket. others were pull over. this was incorrect. i needed to be able to unzip and let the fall breeze caress my body without removing the garment from time to time.

spending some time at once rack, i noticed that these garments seemed appropriate but once i removed one (the sign of a decision almost formed) i was crushed. it did not even have a hood. i had been tricked.

crushed, i found my meandering path taking me to the work wear section. surely, in this land of men who stand next to trees while performing their labor, i could find the perfect hoodie. a garment as full of utility as durability, able to be worn while active without discomfort. how naive i was.

i stood, having found everything i had told myself a hoodie was, but only to have my anger simmer forth. CAT it said, on the chest. But not the good kind of cat that tortures you when you need it most and cuddles you when you need it least. no, the kind of CAT that designs bulldozers meant to demolish houses with the residents still inside. it was exactly what i needed but i could not even bring myself to touch the cursed fabric.

my prowl continued, unable to unsee the labels on the fabrics that siloed all of us into brand consumers. i realized my understanding of hoodie was incomplete. i had not realized that hoodie did not just mean hood. zipper. front pocket. fabric that did not make my skin scream. it also required not selling myself in the process. this upset me. i should have processed this earlier.

the men's section came to an end and with it, my stomach dropped. clothing. active wear. work wear. none of it had a single hoodie. my hands were still empty, devoid of fabric.

i moved to the edge of the store again, determined to release myself from this hell of stimulation that couldn't even sate my basic needs. but i stilled when i saw a flannel that seemed reasonable. that was a flannel, my understanding of one, at least.

tucked into the corner of the store, it declared itself the silo for young men's apparel. the millennial inside me spat. how could this section declare me young, deny that i'm an adult. that was my job. but i could not deny how i was drawn to the fabrics and styles hidden away in this secret corner.

i touched a garment and i did not pull away. consumption was still on full display, emblazoned on almost everything smothering me. and yet, here and there, a garment or two would be naked of this blatant display of capitalism. and there it was.

not a jacket, the fabric warm but not smothering. soft inside, not making my skin seethe. a zipper. a hood. and no mark, no burden. after all this time, i had found hoodie, hiding away in this small stash of unadorned designs.

my body rebelled, unable to believe that this could be the only one. it came in three colors. black. blue. a third dark tone i couldn't identify. I found a blue one in the correct hoodie size, two sizes larger and held it for a long time. then began my search again, needing to prove to myself it was not the only hoodie in this entire store.

as i whirled through more displays and fabrics, relegated to the small space of this secret corner, my stomach dropped as i realized...

it was.

#NonFiction

my travel partner and i have been going through a hell of a chaos storm lately that's heavily impacted our finances. if this blog post gave you anything, please consider supporting us via our ko-fi. if you do, however, please only do so after first donating to someone else's request for mutual aid. thanks!