Leeds, West Yorkshire, 1995.
The snowy January gave way to a wet and windy February and then to an equally unpleasant March. The sidewalks were filling with mutilated corpses of umbrellas, and I was worrying that mine would join them in a matter of days, if not hours. (The glorious Fulton was yet to be discovered by me.)
One of those rainy afternoons a thought struck me: maybe intead of an umbrella I need, um, an Umbro? This windcheater stared at me through the shop window with its lonely diamond-shaped eye. “Will you take me home? Please?”
So I did. It must have been the first item of clothing I acquired in Leeds. Naturally, it was not called “vintage” back then. I don’t remember how much I paid for my “famous blue raincoat” but it couldn’t have been more than a tenner. I never expected this oversized piece of 100% nylon to become my best investment, garment-wise. And here it is, three decades later, still up to its job (of protecting me from the elements), as good as new. That’s quality. I’ve worn it over any other garb in my possession, including a puffer jacket and a backpack, from Leeds to Boston to Porvoo to Santander, etc. etc.
Here’s to another 30 years!