There’s something I love about human beings: there are a myriad of sides to an individual, a paradox to someone fitting a certain label.
For instance, I’m an old-fashioned girl who loves to rap to G-Eazy.
I’ll talk sexy to a boy and just as quickly start talking using puns and asking about cats.
In the same hour, I’ll fillet a fish and then shimmy under the bubbles in a luxurious bathtub.
Movies? My faves consist of The Shining and Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
And on Christmas morning, I had a form fitting blue dress next to a men’s Carharrt jacket.
Which perfectly sums me up: I’m whiskey in a teacup.
But back to the jacket, specifically my Carharrt jacket.
It is week two of my new job as assistant manager at brew@602 and I can honestly say that I have never worked this hard in my entire life. Yes, I know I’m a mere twenty-two years old and haven’t exactly begun my life as a true adult working in the real world (whatever that means), but I know that I am working hella hard.
And every day at six, I button up my denim work shirt, zip up my men’s Carharrt jacket, and I go, I go, it’s off to work I go.
I’m a working woman wearing a working jacket and it feels incredibly empowering. I’ve always had my eye on a Carharrt jacket, always jealous of the few girlfriends I had who rocked such rugged coats, but until now, I’ve never felt that I earned the responsibility that came with wearing a jacket that was essentially created for the hard-working laborer. What’s even more ironic about Carharrt is that their history starts with providing clothes for railroad workers (and guess who’s working on the railroad? That would be me).
It feels good to get dirty, to work long hours in the day, and to grow into my responsibilities as a woman in charge. Plus, it's a nice contrast to my feminine style, a perfect uniform for a woman who's whiskey in a teacup.
I now relish the fact that I’ve earned the responsibility of wearing a jacket meant for the working woman.
I may never want to take it off.