:: Langlitz Leathers Appreciation Post::
I would be lying if I didn’t share that I was cracked completely in half yesterday. Down to my very core. When it takes someone (me) 35 years to realize that I have been both the victim and the (self) oppressor, something in me came crashing down. When you’ve lived for as long as I have, and consider yourself as self-aware as I think I am, it’s a hard truth to face that I’ve been hiding for a long, long time. Not even my closest family and friends have seen 100% of me. Because I haven’t been able to see 100% of me either. It was never safe, it was and still is a risk. And now I realize it’s a risk I need to take as a privileged BIPOC person.
You never want to compare oppression. Because it’s unique to individuals and always bad. But one helpful reference point for me as I examined my utter breakdown (and subsequent building back up) yesterday, was trying to understand how I could be so disillusioned for three full decades of my life.
I’m reading a memoir written by a woman my age, who was in a horrible verbally and emotionally abusive marriage for 11 years. Her now ex-husband did not physically abuse her, though she wishes he had because it would make it plain and clear to everyone around her that she was not in a good situation. When I read this, I nearly fell over because this is what racism feels like. It’s ever present. You second guess yourself if it’s actually real. Everyone around me acts as if this is “just life” and we should all get on with it. When the anti-Asian violence of a few weeks ago was so visible, I couldn’t pretend or compartmentalize any longer. Racism is real. And I’ve been impacted by it my whole life.
I’m one of the lucky ones. My parents invested in my education. @Tufts (the most expensive dating service in the world), I met my life partner who sees, hears, and champions me every day of his being. He believes me. He listens. He asks. And he wants to do better. Because of these two things, I got a great education, and I earned my place at the world’s greatest brand doing things I love to do. I speak English without an accent, and for the most part, if I need to spend money to take care of myself and my family, I can (luckily and easily) do that.
I compare this to the anti-black, -Latinx, -POC hate and I know I have it lucky. Because other groups have been physically abused for years, and that racism is out in the open. The undeniable violence against black and brown bodies in this country is abhorrent and negligent. We have all witnessed this.
On the other hand, the violence against Asian Americans, Pacific Islanders and other indigenous groups has largely been silent, almost undetectable, and invisible to most (those who aren’t Asian). I have lived my life within the lines of racism, not actively combatting it as I should/could have (however risky). I have unknowingly held up the Model Minority stereotype, thereby subjugating other groups when it was absolutely not my intent.
So yesterday was a big, tragic day for me. When a lot of what I relied on, the foundational building blocks of my life, came crumbling down. I felt weak, devastated, helpless.
So I did what I do when I don’t feel great (much to my husband’s chagrin). I went…shopping. I knew exactly where I wanted to go. I took myself to @langlitzleathers where I’ve long coveted a custom and bespoke (and boy do I mean beee-spoke!) motorcycle jacket.
I stepped in only intending to buy a ball cap and a baseball tee. Then I met Bennie, the co-owner and he pointed out the consignment rack. No harm in just looking. Peep! I picked one with long black fringe, because I’m flashy like that. Put it on my body and it screamed at me. “Buy me!” “I fit you perfectly.” And in that moment, I understood that I went to Langlitz to get myself some armor. To rediscover my badassery. It had disappeared in an instant, and thankfully black leather moto jackets with fringe can help you rediscover badassery pretty quickly. And speaking of armor, the jacket is so rad that it feels as if the racism could just bounce right off. Wouldn’t it be great if all we needed to deflect racism was a black motorcycle jacket? I wish.
I was & am happy to wear this jacket. Because I immediately thought of how hard I had worked to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with my peers. The only difference being I definitely busted my bum 2x as hard to get to the same spot. Maybe more. And now when I stand shoulder-to-shoulder with those people, I can be happy for them AND proud of myself and my fringe for having achieved that.s
Click link below if you want to see live-action fringe. Sorry if any of your work laptops/computers/algorithms pick up the phrase “live-action fringe” and assume this content is anything other than my forearm and my new fringe.
https://www.youtube.com/embed/pYtVIt0oc6
At the check out, I loved talking with Bennie about what kind of moto I wanted to get. As the transaction was concluding, he asked how my day was going. I was brutally honest. Anti-Asian sentiment was killing me. Whether he does this for all customers, or did this because I was having a terrible day — I still do not know (and I appreciate that). Because no free handouts in my book, although BIPOC could probably use a helping hand now and then. He slid into my bag a complementary tub of leather conditioner for my new jacket, and zipper lube. This was after carefully showing me how to use it, despite having two older male customers waiting outside to come in. In fact, when those guys showed up…I said — “Oh no worries, we can finish up quickly so you can help them.” (Ugh, making myself small to make space for others, again. When will I learn?) Bennie said to me — “Well hang on there. We give everyone the same amount of attention, and right now, it’s your turn. And not to mention, I know those guys…they come here all the time, and all they do is talk my ear off.”
Want to know one other cool thing? All of the jackets that @langlitzleathers makes has the owner’s name, date of manufacture and serial number printed on the inner left side pocket. The womxn who previously owned this jacket was named — Nolle Rainbow. (A sign of happier times to come, I hope). And it was made in September 2012 by an ASIAN seamstress who still works there — Masako, who stood up from her machine and waived gaily at me from across the way. My jacket was made nearly 10 years ago. Who wants to throw Nolle Rainbow a 10-year birthday party in September?!
