For some people their weakness is shoes, for others handbags but mine is definitely, without doubt coats. When a sumptuous lightweight Hobbs wool coat is presented to me I just have to try it on. Like the Joseph goose and feather down black padded jacket, the Hoggs of Fife tweed jacket, the Aquascutum classic double breasted rainmac, the vibrant red cape from Ramosport Paris. And that's just the selection currently in front of me in my workroom. I have a storage room obviously...
In my own personal wardrobe I am currently debating whether I need two black coats. It's a toss up between the black AgnesB. with the faux fur collar or a very long Jacques Vert complete with stunning gold lining. Should I consider selling my Rocha of Mayfair coat? Absolutely not, it was vintage when I was given it and that was some thirty odd years ago. The extremely mischievous friend that bestowed such a stunning beauty upon me rather wickedly told me she had 'worn it to Cliveden, to one of Lady Astor's parties' she informed me. 'Obviously in the days before country estates were turned into vulgar hotels' she added for good measure. A coat with provenance then. If only I had paid more attention to her stories...
The Savoy Taylors Guild Peruvian Alpaca wool herringbone coat has had so many close brushes with being dismissed but it continues to hold a place in my heart. Those lapels must surely come back into fashion one day? The White Company navy blue double breasted pea coat, the battered Barbour, the terribly smart tailored tweed coat with the velvet collar, all will fulfil a particular occasion. The most hateful Kermit green anorak for hiking in the unpredictable English weather hangs forlornly on the back door. I need them all.
I can't understand anyone who only has one winter coat, how on earth do they manage? For good measure I count the number of coats I have in stock. Absurd. How on earth did I accumulate all those? I'm just sitting pondering this very complex question when 'the man of the house' strides in. He takes a quick look of approval at a classic tweed men's jacket artfully hung over a mustard wool waistcoat with gold lining. A Tootal scarf finishes off the ensemble rather fetchingly I think.
He scoops them up with undisguised glee and starts trying them on. 'You've got enough winter coats' I say rather tartly. He pauses and looks at me as though I'm mad and out comes this disbelieving snort of laughter.
'That's rather rich coming from you' he says.
I privately think it is but I don't admit to it.
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