Just Write: My (Father’s) Belt

I’m threading my new “vintage” belt through the loops of my pants. It’s obviously several inches too long, but I’ve gotten over that little inconvenience. Nothing a little artistic tucking-in can’t fix, I think to myself. The belt is brand new, but it already has the worn, well-aged look of something far older. Something like the woven leather belt that my father used to wear every day. Even now, I still remember my younger self — half the size that I am now — staring up at my father as he threaded that belt. I liked that belt. It intrigued me. I always wondered how it worked since it didn’t have holes like other belts did. Even when my father showed me how it worked — by pressing the metal rod anywhere you liked, so long as it was right in the middle where the two arms of a V meet — I still didn’t get it. But how do you know you’re punching the metal rod through the right place? It perplexed me for days.

It’s kind of weird, owning a belt that looks just like my father’s. Granted, his is much thicker — and frankly, legitimately vintage — but the design and feel is the same. Funny, how fashion repeats itself like that.

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