"The other night, I met a Marine at a bar. He asked me where I was from, and when I told him Missouri, he said, 'Oh, where they wear fur coats all the time?' Granted, he was from Georgia, but huh? Did he mean because it's so cold that we have to wear fur for warmth? It's not. Did he mean because we're such rich and fancy people that we don't go anywhere without our mink capes? We're not. Or did he mean that I'm a Miss Havisham-type who spends my time wrapped in fur, sipping tea, while reading classic literature? I don't... I only sometimes do that.
"Little did he know that I do, in fact, own a fur. It's a family heirloom of sorts that I acquired from my grandmother who lived in—you guessed it—Missouri. I haven't actually worn it yet, unless you count lounging around in my apartment pretending my life is more fabulous than it is when the heat is broken. I hope to soon, though, and if New York's next winter is anything like its last, I won't have to wait long.
"As a Brooklyn resident, fur seems a little too Uptown for me, but maybe I should take a cue from the old Polish ladies who live on my block and wear mine with a ladylike dress and too much jewelry. I could also pull a Carrie Bradshaw and wear it with the sparkly cocktail dresses I inexplicably thought I would one day wear, or the high-waisted skinny jeans I once believed were a brilliant idea. After all, we do have a lot in common: We're both writers, we're both neurotic, and we're both broke. Okay, maybe she wasn't, but she should have been with that job and that salary and that apartment.
"When all is said and done, I'll more than likely end up wearing my fur with one my favorite striped dresses and a worn-to-death denim jacket, because it's an outfit that's totally me, and I'm from Missouri, and that's how this Missourian dresses."