CONCEALED CARRY

What's really in your pocket?

- HUA HSU

Many years ago, I was deliberating over a purchase. I was in my early twenties, deeply susceptible to clothing that spoke to Y2K anxiety. Think North Face-adjacent activewear for people who largely avoid physical exertion. The piece in question was a hooded gray jacket; although it lacked any of the futuristic, weatherproof materials prized by people who actually go outside, I was drawn to all the pockets—a festival of zippers, Velcro flaps, and mesh webbing. There was an interior pocket the size of a wallet, and one perfect for a pack of cigarettes. There were roomy, quilted slash pockets along the side that were ample enough for gloves or a Discman—this was the early two-thousands—and two generous chest pockets with Velcro enclosures. I checked one of them, and realized it was detachable, with a series of built-in microfibre dividers inside. The pocket was really a slim CD wallet. I was sold.

Many of us have bought items of clothing simply because of clever pockets— for me, a pair of jeans with a hidden compartment the size of a dime bag along the seam of the inner thigh is particularly memorable. But is this pocket preoccupation purely a matter of pragmatism or does it reflect some deeper psychological need?

From CDs to seeds, coins, beads: human beings have always carried things with them, and for much of our history a satchel worn around the neck, or a pouch attached at the waist, sufficed. In medieval times, men and women alike wore small bags tied to their waist or suspended by belts. For privacy, people layered clothing over these bags, cutting slits to provide easy access to their possessions. And then, at some point in the sixteenth century, European men began asking their tailors for pockets.