My New Love

Some time over Christmas I decided that what I really wanted was a duffel coat.

I can’t remember how this came about – I must have seen someone wearing one in the bitter cold and thinking, ‘that would be good for dogwalking’.

Not only would it be long and snuggly and warm, but I could wear layers underneath it, it would keep out the wind and the wet and – this is of utmost importance as a dogwalker – it would have big pockets.

Big pockets are essential for us dog owners. When out walking I need poo bags, dog biscuits, hankies (this weather makes my nose run), keys (house and car on one ring) and if I remember, phone. If I’m really organised I might have paper and pen in case I think of something pertinent to what I’m writing (I usually do when out walking and if I wait till I get back to the car I inevitably forget) and a few business cards. Just in case I happen to bump into someone who might be looking for a passing writer. You never know.

But back to the duffel coat. This idea grew over Christmas until by the day after Boxing Day I decided to tackle the sales in Truro.

Not unusual you may think. Wrong. I never shop unless I really have to and I have never been to the post Christmas sales. Never.

So it was with a certain amount of trepidation that I set off, accompanied by a bemused mother who doesn’t like shopping either but was lured by the promise of Waterstones.

To my surprise we managed to park in Tesco car park at 9.30. By 10 I had had enough. We’d scoured the only shops that might have a duffel coat only to find either they didn’t have any, or if they did, they were a size 22.

As we were by this time in Marks and Spencer, surrounded by millions of people searching racks of hideous clothes, I suggested we went to the café. There I queued for 20 minutes for two coffees. I think you can probably guess how I was feeling by this time.

We then went to Waterstones and spent a happy half hour browsing books and returned home with 3 for 2. But no coat.

The next day Mum left and I set off into town that afternoon to replenish food supplies. Walking through town, I called into an old fashioned clothing shop and found a gents duffel coat (no women’s) which came down to my feet almost. It was beautiful wool, German made. Cost £175. I blanched and hurried out.

Then I passed the Hospice charity shop and popped in. A friend was working there, so we had a chat and I felt duty bound to have a look.

There on the coat rack was a green duffel coat with yellow wooden toggles. It almost had Flowerpot written all over it. Admittedly it was a size 12 and I’m an 8 or 10, but I reasoned I’d probably be wearing layers underneath it anyway. I tried it on. It wasn’t that big. I bought it.
It cost me £8.

And since then I have worn it every time I go out. It feels just right. I don’t care what it looks like – it feels wonderfully snuggly, and I can wear a fleece underneath if it’s really cold.

And of course, it has great big pockets. Because you never know what you may need. Or who you might meet.