I’ve posted a few self-indulgent selfies in neurofeedback headgear, including the most quotidian activities:

1. My daily athleisure-wear.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CR3yiRbnnUv/

2. The fabulous whore-coat which belonged to my step-grandfather’s mistress, which technically belongs to my step grandfather’s illegitimate child with his mistress… It’s a lot to explain. My family is weird. Don’t ask. 
https://www.instagram.com/p/CSZo_xyDSlP/

3. And one another the buff. Because… why not?.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CSZooMAj1jA/

Said it before, and I’ll say it again: “What Whore Montage would be complete without some nudity?”

This time, I wasn’t sure what I could to do to take it up a notch. 

Then I realised… Of COURSE.

The immaculate, irreplaceable, badass jacket my mother crafted in 1979 for her label Rags To Bitches.

I adore this jacket so much it literally hurts.

The sensation of wearing something that is older than *I* am, made by hand by the woman who made every cell of my being, is truly indescribable.

Here’s my best attempts:

https://www.instagram.com/p/Buyh4PtApKX/

https://www.instagram.com/p/BuwnofsAwCm/

Sidenote: I was a pretty ace baseball pitcher, and my best shot was a fast ball.

But when it comes to my mother, it’s more than a bit tricky to really describe how irreplaceable she was.

My mother modelling the very clothing she made. How cool can you GET. 
https://www.instagram.com/p/BuwnofsAwCm/

This is the jacket – and it’s still in perfect condition, not one stitch out of place. 
https://www.instagram.com/p/Buyh4PtApKX/