What a fabulous season it is when the light fades at the perfect time in the evening, the mornings are crisp and cool but the day warms up and the roads are littered with gorgeous amber leaves.
Well that was last week.
This week it has been absolutely freezing. Looking out my window it is pitch black, and the thought of trekking to the pub (especially since I am one of those rare breeds of peculiar teenagers who is not actually enthralled by alcohol, being far too much of a control freak to get mashed) seems like a mighty life challenge. Such dreary, Dickensian weather falls over London, and I am forced to dress like Paddington Bear. Not that I mind of course, because Paddington has always been an absolutely dapper young bear, but it has taken me rather by surprise and I feel ill equipped for stepping outside. So there’s only one solution… Winter coat shopping time!
My absolute staple buy and guilty shopping pleasure is coats. I would happily buy a billion coats a year if I could finance such a thing. In my opinion, coats are your duvets away from duvets and therefore it is vital to own a really glorious one, so that stepping out in chilly weather feels like less of a hardship. I currently own 4 coats, possibly more; my shopping amnesia means that I often forget what I own and buy duplicates.
However, my obsessive compulsive shopping for coats skips hand in hand with my other ugly habit – tiring of things easily. I have an appaling tendancy to be utterly in love with something (or even someone) for minute spaces of time before I drift to the next shiny/snuggly item and/or person. So currently, regardless of any compliments I recieve for my outer apparel, I loath nearly all of my jackets.
Too big! Too warm! Doesn’t go with everything! Goes with too many things! I can never be satisifed with the coats that I do possess, always on the look out for my dream coats; the icing on the perfectly light and fluffy satorial cake:- the perfect leopard print coat and the perfect navy blue, velvet trimmed princess style coat – think a small girl’s first day at sunday school.
I think this is the root of the problem. Until I stumble across those beauties I will keep on accumulating lesser jackets to numb the disatisfaction of not living the dream.
This form of self pity means that I cannot look at pictures of people happily wrapped up in their perfect coats with out feeling pangs of jealousy…
Paddington, in his glorious blue duffle coat.
Early days Alexa Chung in her princess coat (I swear I would actually rip that off her back given half the chance)
Even Eastender’s PAT Butcher has got her ideal coat sorted.
So as this weather seems likely only to worsen, I best up my ebay/etsy/musty second hand treasure trove snooping and hope I come across a woolen utopia, before I spend the rest of this season storming around in anger. And to all Jazz readers searching for exactly the same dream coats, I will see YOU on ebay for a heated bidding war. Good day.