“But Jeff, didn’t you have a varsity jacket in high school?“
The answer: No, I didn’t. I didn’t take myself seriously in high school athletics to merit awards that could be worn on my jacket at Friday night football games. Womp, womp. When the Jostens mafia came to my school to sell class rings, I opted for a class ring like any other kid who hated the weight room, lacked any athletic finesse or “swagger.”
$18 for a size 36, wool and leather varsity jacket. No tag. It fits so damn well, and it’s in fairly good shape. A little short, but hey, I’m 6’2.
Seeing as this is my visual debut, I should probably explain a bit about my life as a reporter-at-large. It’s pretty much the best life ever: I’m my own boss, I only work on Pulitzer-worthy stories that I’m passionate about, editors of national magazines are constantly banging down my door, and the money is rolling in. (Pick which one of those things is true). Actually, this article sums it up pretty well, especially the bit about “mostly spending my days watching television, napping, noshing, strolling around, seeing matinees, playing The Sims”…except sub in FIFA for The Sims. Jarred once told me he envisions me sitting around smoking cheap cigarettes and not shaving very much.