My Mink Coat – One Moment in Time
“The Emperor’s New Clothes” by Hans Christian Andersen was one of my favorite stories from childhood. In it, the emperor is deceived by two swindlers who claim to be weaving magical clothes that are only visible to the worthy. The emperor, afraid of being ridiculed for admitting he cannot see the clothes, pretends to see them. Ultimately, a child’s innocent remark exposes the truth: the emperor is completely naked.
As a child, I would laugh so hard, thinking, “How can that be possible? Are they blind?” But as I got older, I began to understand the deeper meaning. When power, money, and desire take over your soul and heart, all that’s left is a naked body.
When my friend showed me a picture of three women dressed up, I said, “They look nice.” But she replied, “No, I mean their purses—all from Louis Vuitton.” I looked at the picture again, and sure enough, each of them had their Louis Vuitton purse in front of them. It was almost like they were triplets. The purses symbolized their wealth and pride. They no longer existed—only the purses remained.
When we were young, we somehow followed the crowd. At that time, my husband worked for an East Coast company that was doing really well—twice-a-year raises, generous bonuses, and glamorous parties. I mingled with his colleagues’ wives at company events. One thing I noticed was that they all had mink coats. I felt I should have one too. For our 10th anniversary, my husband bought me a mink coat.
We thought our perfect life would last forever. But not long after, technology made a major shift—from client-server to the Internet—and everything changed. He lost his job, and we moved to the West Coast. At that time, I thought the coat symbolized something about me, about our success. But as life changed, I realized that the things we use to define our identity can easily fade away.
I only wore the coat twice; it still sits in my closet. I guess it’s become a memory of that moment in time.
The emperor’s empty pursuit of external validation (the invisible clothes) mirrors how we sometimes chase superficial symbols of success or beauty (like the mink coat or Louis Vuitton purses), which ultimately leave us feeling “naked.”
Now that I’m older, I wonder how to transcend my physical appearance and embrace inner beauty for longer, so I can remain beautiful or meaningful over time, even as everything else changes.
I studied some information from the Internet:
• The kindness, wisdom, and integrity a person carries, which become more apparent with time and experience.
• A painting, song, or work of literature that continues to resonate across generations.
• Cherished memories: Experiences or moments that hold lasting value, like the bond between loved ones or personal milestones.
• Natural beauty: Elements of nature, like mountains, oceans, or stars, which remain awe-inspiring even as the world around them changes.
Though I didn’t ask that question when I was younger, I’m grateful for the journey that led me here—one where beauty is no longer measured by the things I wear or own, but by the kindness I offer and the memories I create.