storytelling

Duffle coats

This morning I saw my first duffle coat of the season. The chap was walking with the slight swagger that duffle-wearing engenders. “I’m geeky and I’m proud”, it seems to say. His coat was of that perfect teddy-bear-brown hue and looked soft and cosy.

I love duffles. While watching the classic movie ‘The Third Man” I felt my attention wax and wane despite the artistry, tension and zither music. I realised I was waiting, breathlessly, for the next scene involving the terribly British Trevor Howard and his rakish duffle coat. I hadn’t realised how much I wanted one until then.

I was a poor, neglected child and never had a duffle in all my life. Until last year.

It was then I purchased the soft, warm, caramel coloured wonder which is my very own duffle coat. It was a bit of a campaign, involving several days and the help and input of a number of friends, but eventually we found my perfect coat:

  • The proper size
  • Pure wool
  • Not too expensive
  • And just the right colour to suit my hair

The night it arrived the weather was particularly blustery and autumnal. I immediately put on the new coat and proceeded to promenade up and down my street, toasty warm and duffling for all I was worth.

Although I was happy to see that chap this morning my own coat will remain in the cupboard for a few weeks more. It’s not cold enough yet. If i wear it now, when winter comes I’llno feel the benefit‘ as we say in Scotland.

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