My body is not winter coat friendly. Being short and somewhat round, pea coats give me that SpongeBob Square Pants look -- except in navy blue. And long winter coats transform me into a none-too-stylish Siberian hausfrau. All that's missing is the babushka and bottle of vodka.
But there I was, shopping for a new winter coat -- because, after 2 1/2 years, I finally conceded my current coat was Eminently Impractical.
It was love at first sight. THAT was the first problem. I loved its dapper silver buckles. . . the graceful, cuffed bell sleeves. . . the sleek, anything-but-a-natural-fiber fabric. . . and the fun, kicky hemline.
Blinded that I was by high fashion, I did not stop to think about dragging those graceful, cuffed bell sleeves through bowls of soup. I did not anticipate the fact that the only way those damn dapper silver buckles would stay closed would be by assuming a permanently vertical dead man's pose. One deep breath. . . one moment of bending over to pick up a dropped glove. . . the simple motion of sliding into the car. . . and those damn dapper silver buckles popped like bolts on the Titanic leaving me flapping around like some strange refugee of Hogwarts.
And, oh, did I mention the sleek, anything-but-a-natural-fiber fabric immediately assumed the ambient outdoor temperature the moment I stepped outside?
2 degrees below zero? No problem, I can do that, too. See, mom?
And so, on Sunday, I found a new coat. It's wool -- and it has a zipper. I look like a Siberian hausfrau on a woolly winter bender -- BUT important fashion lesson learned: Function over form.