I have a rabbit “leopard” fur coat. It’s stunningly beautiful. I received it as a gift from my brother from his gorgeous clothing line two Christmases ago and I adore it. BUT, Oklahoma doesn’t exactly have a lot of places you can wear a leopard fur coat, so when I wear it, it definitely makes a statement and I have to admit, I feel a bit conspicuous. I basically look like a 6 foot 1 part-woman-part-animal coming straight at you. I can only imagine its terrifying. I wear it to fundraisers and gala-type events (when I get invited), big nights out, and then I always wear it on Christmas Eve for Midnight Mass.
A few years ago I was in LA visiting my brother right before the holidays and he gave me the coat as an early present. We were having a cold winter so when I got home for Christmas Eve, I bundled up in black tights, and black skirt, tall suede boots and a red top (very Christmasy if you ask me) and topped it off with red lipstick and my leopard coat. I was running late that night, as I often am, and I misunderstood what time I was meeting my family at the church. I thought we were going to a quick come-and-go communion at 7:30, but they went to communion about 15 minutes before. So, I’m late, and when I walk in, communion is over, and almost everyone has left. I should quickly point out that I have an extreme need to take communion anytime it’s offered (blame my Catholic baptism and Episcopalian upbringing).
I see that the minister is starting to put away the wine and the bread, so I sprint down the aisle in my Christmas outfit, leopard coat flapping behind me in the wind, to try to get him to give me communion at the last second. The minister stops and sees me coming, probably wondering if there’s a wild animal that’s escaped from the zoo and is now terrorizing downtown Tulsa. I know I look distraught because I’m late and out of breath from running (in heels thank-you-very-much), and I can imagine he’s watching me and thinking, apparently this girl REALLY NEEDS TO TAKE COMMUNION. He stops what he’s doing and I get to the front of the aisle, all out of breath and disheveled, and he puts his hand on my head and blesses me right then and there and gives me communion, no questions asked. I think we kind of had a moment. I leave and meet my family for dinner, and start thinking back on the evening’s events, realizing that the minister most likely assumed I was some sort of working girl coming in off the streets in my leopard fur coat and red lipstick asking for last second forgiveness of all of my sins. Eh, probably not that far off. Anyway, leopard coat -1, Me – 0
The next time I wore the coat, it was to a fundraiser. I had it on over a short navy long-sleeved dress. Problem was, the coat was longer than the dress. I had the coat clasped together in the front and bundled up around me, and only then did I realize, along with everybody else (yes lady, I DID see your side-eye) that I looked like I was wearing my leopard fur coat…and nothing else. And it was too cold to take off my jacket until we were seated for dinner. Leopard coat – 2, Me – 0.
I thought about it over the weekend because I went to another fundraiser on Friday night and had on the same coat, which was still longer than my dress (maybe that’s my problem?) But, at least this time I had the good sense to keep the jacket open so people could tell that I was wearing clothes. Leopard coat – 2, me-1. We still have a few weeks left of winter so stay tuned for more of this developing saga. Also – on the same night as the aforementioned fundraiser, I slipped and fell on the ice (in my leopard fur coat) and now have a hole the size of a half-dollar in my knee, but that’s a blog post for Wednesday.
By the way, this is why I can’t have nice things.