The Visa Diaries

This all started a couple of weeks ago, with a divine little Marc Jacobs jacket. What is it about Marc? He makes me go wild.

Here is the jacket:

It is white on white seersucker fabric, lined with that innocent little daisy pattern that he uses. The cut – delicate narrow little shoulders, slightly high-waisted and belling out – makes you feel precious and girly. And the BIG BUTTONS! The buttons are what really make it: these sort of 40s looking, big off-white shiny plastic numbers, with brass lining the holes. It all makes you feel about 10 years old, a little Eloise living at the Plaza in New York, saucily skipping down the street with a big striped lolly, as you effortlessly wrap the world around your little finger…

Of course, its also hard to think of Marc Jacobs without thinking of his muse Sophia Coppolla. What modern girl wouldn’t mind having a bit more of what Sophia’s got? Growing up acting in the films of one of the world’s most famous directors, who just happens to be, oh, dad? A seamless transition into director, Ocsar nomination, marriage to cuter-than-can-be Spike Jonze? (sorry that didn’t work out, but I guess being a young divorcee is stylish as well, as is having a child with a French rocker). Not to mention generally being regarded as one of the it-est, chic-est girls on the west side of the Atlantic… Hell, if Sophia loves Marc – if she’s going to lounge around in pools and hotel rooms taking grainy photos wearing nothing more than his perfume – then if I didn’t already love Marc, I’d love him now.

So, you understand the attraction of this jacket. I had seen it just a couple of days before in another shop, where it had broken my heart because it was one size too small. Then all of a sudden, there I was at the Selfridges SALE, and they had ONE LEFT in the RIGHT SIZE! Tell me such a gift from the heavens is possible to refuse. It is not, I know you understand.

I wasn’t quite as sure that my boyfriend, Earnest, would understand. He always wanted me to spend my money on pedestrian things like rent and the water bill. Never mind, I said, he’ll get over it when he sees how darling I look in the jacket, besides it will go perfectly with my skinny Earnest Sewn (no relation to the boyf!) jeans, I reasoned, and handed over the credit card.