Back in the 80's, my favorite coat was a Marine Sergents jacket. It was given to me by a boyfriend whoes brother was killed in Vietnam. I had a funky floppy hat that I wore with it and multiple long dangling earrings. All black clothing underneath, including my jeans and boots. I was not a punk rocker. But I guess you could say I looked like one. I was into Bowie and The Phycedelic Furs, not to forget Gary Newman! I was not violent, but looked like I could have been. I guess I looked pretty tough. People would all the time yell at me for wearing that jacket. Saying that it was a disgrace to the uniform. Almost to the point of violence. I did not belive it was a disgrace. The jacket was given to me with love. It was a prized possesion of someone who loved me. I wore it proudly, yet was persecuted for it. I wore it because I could. I still have that jacket BTW. I do not, and never will persecute someone for how they look. I still dress in black and sometimes put on some outragouse makeup. No harm no foul. It is what is on the inside that counts. Those that judge a book by it's cover are fools of the worst sort. The reading is done on the inner pages, friend...
