Jacket-O

I want to make clear first that I have some obsession for black and white clothes. I have, to make ourselves understood, a white dress with black polka dots, and a black dress with white polka dots; a black skirt with white embroidery, and a white skirt with a black pattern. A black dress with white flowers. A white dress with black and white flowers printed on it. Two white dresses with a slightly different black pattern. A white dress with black borders. A black and white jumper. A black halter top printed in white. Countless black and white gingham items...
Er, I think you got it.


This morning my friend Sara and I put on comfortable shoes, fresh white cotton dresses (they're not fresher than every other colour, but they look like they are), and took some water bottles, fans and sunglasses; we rolled our sleeves up, wore a ferocious expression, and we went out for a raid - er, some shopping at the local market.
When I say "some shopping" I don't render the idea of what going shopping with Sara is like.
More than a hobby, it's a mission: when we go out shopping together, we walk for, at least, five hours, with no breaks, following a schedule that would make Lt. Hartman pale.

Sara, goddamn her!, found out some super cute denim high-waisted Capri (the last pair, *sigh*), and an eye-candy ruffled shirt.
I found nothing.
Well, at least, until I saw this.

































There and then, I thought I've never seen anything that reminded me more of Jackie Kennedy.
But I felt shivers down my spine when I realized what I was staring at: the most expensive stall in the whole market.
As usual.
I always like things I can't afford: a gift that I inherited from my mother, who is able to look at an entire clothes shop where everything -from skirts to coats - is half-price, and like the only pair of gloves that are full price.

However.
I shyly took a glance on a random label - and my heart sank: 150 € (nearly 215 $) for a vest?!
What the hell...?
My friend tried to encourage me ("C'mon, don't give up hope... Maybe they have sales"), but I knew she was only trying to make me forget that she bought the last pair of those Capri.
But, unexpectedly, she was right.
Actually, not only they had sales, but the jacket in point was, miracolously, one of those items that, having a little flaw, can not be sold at the full price (someone told me the English for this kind of clothes is "seconds": can someone tell me if it's correct?).

So, I took courage and I pronounced the terrible words.
How.
Much.
Is.
It?
Da-da-da-daaaam.

But...
Nobody was happier than me to hear the answer: 15 € - about 20 dollars!
So, here I am, now. With my brand-new black and white jacket.
Onassis, here I am!