i have decided.

..that i really especially need a vest. not a camo vest with built-in bullet holders or a blaze orange hunting vest with grouse feathers and blood and cockleburs still attached, or even a life preserver vest for safe canoeing, or a sweater vest like one in which my cousin attends formal functions, or a suit jacket vest a la cummerbund, which, coincidentally, is practically the most enjoyable word to say aloud in the entire english language, or a neon reflector vest a la construction worker or extreme maximal safety man bike rider.

i need a sweet vest. it probably shouldn't be quilted, or smocked or ruched or macraméed, for that matter; and whoever pete is, and why this matters to him i know not, but for pete's sake, how do you spell that last m-word? i decided for the accéntuated e, for overall classiness, and the unaccéntuated e for overall just-to-be-on-the-safe-side-edness. nevertheless, forgive my scatterbrainéd ways, dear pete, but that's not what i want on my vest.

it could feasibly be of some sort of knitted substance; i like knitted. but it has to be good knitted. none of this  i-was-knitted-on-a-machine-a-bazillion-weeks-ago-by-a-robot-who-doesn't-care-about-knitting business, please. i mean, come on. not to be nit-picky, i'm just a little picky about my knits. [dad, i hope you are reading this, because that pun was entirely for your express benefit and good-will.]

moving right along, my vest-of-dreams ought probably be lined with something warm, fuzzy, and cozy. flannel could work, for, as we are all well aware, it is a wonderful fabric of which i am most fond. also, that sort of fuzzy blanket material, of which my dear friend Red [the blanket] is composed, could be a possibility, as long as it isn't too bulky or, well, to put it frankly, too staticky-warm. cozy, yes please. slow-cooker, no thanks. i like my crock pot on the counter.

you know, one of the most admirable traits of vests that i can perceive is that there is no vest with sleeves too short. there is viably a vest that could be perfect for every person in the world. um, mind-blowing?! what a thought. i have discovered the perfect addition to everyone's wardrobe. except for the minuscule [by the way, who knew that word had only one "i" and two "u"s??! i've been enlightened] quandary that practically nobody looks good in vests. but let's not be hasty in judging a book by its cover [which i do on a very regular basis, especially at the thrift store. bad cover, no purchase necessary.]: there very well may be a perfect specimen of perfect clothing article [namely, vest] for every dearly beloved soul in the world. but i think you probably need to discover your own ideal vest. this takes at least half an hour of drowsy sunday afternoon on-couch reminiscence.

other admirable vest traits which i hold in high regard are suitable color choice [drab is absolutely appropriate and also versatile], buttons [bigger is better; toggles are grand; natural substances such as wood or elephant tusk are optimal], length [too short is very embarrassingly noticeable in vest attire, people], and just-the-right-snugness-of-waistband [these things must be pondered, you see] are all key players in this rough-and-tumble game of perfect-vest-choosing-and-appropriately-pulling-off-and-sporting.

i love hyphenation. can you tell?

ok, ok, so the icing on the proverbial cake is the ultimate power vested-in-vests. vested, invested, are you noticing a theme here? vests are great, and should not be feared. the best part of a vest, concluded upon through hours, days, weeks, months, maybe even years of pondering this formidable [english] and formidable [french] subject, is the hood. hoods can make or break the success of many an attempted article of clothing. but hoods can be your best friend.

case in point: it is raining, and you straightened your hair for the first time in a year and a half. you wear your hood. you look amazing.
case also in point: it is cold. your ears are numb. and you have to walk 12 more miles uphill in the bone-chilling wind. your hood saves your skin temperature, improves your overall enjoyment of said 12 miles, and keeps you looking stylish, all whilst blocking the wind.
case thirdly in point: you are in class, and your professor has just said something that you emphatically disagree with. by popping your hood, you reveal your inner disagreement and/or chilliness to said professor, with minimal violence or heated argument involved. just don't fall asleep. or plug in your earbuds.
final digression: you just really want to feel cozy. your mind is unwilling to move on in any direction until you provide coziness. all you need is a hood. close your eyes, soak in the goodness of the hoodness, and move on your merry mindful way.

my vest needs a killer hood. and the epitome of good hoodness is faux fur. every time i see faux fur, i want a vest. crowned and bedecked with a bumper crop of faux fur to cover my crazy crop of hair. it's so cozy, and lion-like, and wind-blocking, and free, and exuberant, and mysterious, and glorious.

and it's another way to avoid wearing the winter coat before its proper season.