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Officially I'm an optimist but I'm a pessimist in retrospect
I had a long black wool coat that I bought in a Salvation Army store in St. Petersburg, Florida. I had suspenders, pink Nikes, a fabulous pair of wool trousers from I. Magnin, wingtips, three '80s-bright sweatshirts from C.P. Shades, and an itchy wool sweater from Uruguay. Why I needed so much wool to live in Northern California during Indian Summer I cannot remember, but since then I have never owned nearly so much.