Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Knows to bring honey

Either this winter has been mild or my internal thermostat has adjusted itself again and rendered me almost insensible to Sydney's brand of cold. 

To wit: I have slept under cotton quilts with cotton flannel sheets all season, and worn a wool coat only once. 

I've spent the rest of the winter  in a the Banana Republic trench coat I bought in New York eighteen months ago. I'd never owned a trench coat and was a little sceptical of their recurring khaki inclusion on every ten-garments-you-must-own list. 

There was no recognisable gap in my life for a trench coat, or so I thought. I bought it on a New York whim, seduced by the way it had been styled on the store mannequin - with some slouchy blue trousers and a carelessly light pink cotton jumper - and end up wearing just about every day last winter and every day this winter. 

So it was a disaster of middle class proportions when the dry cleaner lost the belt. It doesn't work without the belt. I tried every thing - leather belts, velvet belts, no belts, unbuttoned -  but nothing looked right. 

So I've been wearing other coats but I don't look right. I feel odd in my clothes, odd on the train, odd walking through the park to work. 

I could bear it no longer and at lunch time today I cracked and bought another trench. 

It looks entirely unremarkable, almost identical to my American trench. 
 Except it has a belt. 

The quilts are more interesting, at least at first glance.