the colors of me

I fashioned a look for myself. It’s pretty obvious. I wear my red hoody and my red and purplish shirt every day. Practicality was the key when I began. I needed a jacket that wasn’t too warm in fall and spring and that could stand up to low 30’s weather at night, possibly lower. I also wanted to stay warm indoors when I’m only wearing a short sleeve shirt. My multi-shaded green flannel from middle school served this purpose for well over a decade. The thing is like an old blanket. All the memories of Weezer and Green Day come rushing back when I wear it, and I feel thirteen again. The fabric is growing flimsy and I noticed small tears riding up the sides, so I decided to put the old kid to bed. I’ll never get rid of it. It’s one of my oldest friends.

Enter new hoody and comfortable shirt. I bought the hoody at JC Penny about three years ago. The shirt was a Christmas present from my mother that I finally unpacked last winter. I suppose I’ve always been one to go for a signature look, something to set me apart from everyone else. I’m not a very vocal person. If I have absolutely nothing to say, I’m not going to say anything. Maybe wearing something prominent like a red hoody is my way of sticking out of the crowd. Maybe the regularity of my shirt is my way of visible idiosyncrasy. Maybe I’m just a pompous indie rock jerk who wants to make a fashion statement with his cheap clothes. Maybe I should stop worrying about it.

I would do the same thing with a car. The only reason I have a black car is because I wanted a car that day and First Team Auto didn’t have a yellow Outback or a green one. Green is my favorite color, but I’ve always wanted a yellow car. Yellow cars are easy to pick out in a parking lot. If you’re ever at a sporting arena or in a big city and you forget where you parked, look for the yellow car. No one drives a yellow car. No one drives an orange car, either. I would get an orange car if the opportunity arose. Is this really out of necessity to locate my car in a heavily populated urban environment, or is it because I want to make a statement? Do I really find my life so uninteresting that I feel the urge to drive a mechanized piece of fruit? The same goes for my hoody. Am I so afraid of the status quo that I need that signature look?

My father was in the Army in the 60’s. He entered Officer Candidate School, but he dropped out. When I was in college I found his OCS trench coat, and I hijacked it as my own. That was another warm piece of clothing that became a Nick Leitzke signature. It was a nice coat. It was really nice. It was designed so you don’t freeze to death at the bottom of a foxhole. It had to be nice. That was my coat for years until one of the buttons fell off. I didn’t have the patience to sew it back on, so I bought a new coat. That thing was me, though. When I say it was me I don’t mean that in a perfect fit sense. That thing became me. It was to the point where I felt pressured to continue wearing it. If I stopped wearing it, people would think of me differently. I would stop making whatever fashion statement it was and fall back into the status quo. The new coat I bought to replace the trench coat was a nice black one, but I haven’t worn it much this season. Instead I’ve been wearing my hoody and nice red and purplish shirt in layers, and I wear my scarf when it gets particularly chilly outside. I guess I’m back on the fashion statement wagon. But you know what? Forget it. This is easier. Wearing the same thing every day is like Einstein filling his closet with nothing but white shirts, black ties, black jackets and black slacks. It’s easier to throw on the first thing you see than to sit there debating what to wear. My hoody lies draped over the back of a chair. I grab it before I leave the house. I’m not going to successfully develop a unified theory of physics anytime soon, but it’s easier to do the things you want if you’re not worried about asinine bullshit.