J.Cruel

Constant. Sartorial. Wonderment.

The Autobiography of J.Cruel

jumpsuit

J.Cruel’s youth . . .

Sounded like: a Hummer’s engine turning over in the seniors’ parking lot, surf crashing, mall music, someone preaching the gospel, tires on the 5, seagulls, Gwen Stefani, coyote howls, tolling bells (they toll for thee).

Smelled like: yoga mats, Hot Dog on a Stick, sagebrush, oranges, Obsession by Calvin Klein, chlorine.

Looked like: red tile roof, white stucco, grass in a desert, ocean horizon, strip mall, palm tree, trucker hat.

Tasted like: fro-yo, fish tacos.

Felt like: a second skin of stretch denim from ankles to sternum . . . oppressive yet comforting.

Super-slim fit denim bodysuit with adjustable spaghetti straps and center back zip. Like your past, you will never escape it.

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