A letter from a reader

At 67, I found a practical coat that gives me a waist, and the marrows lost their audience

On Sunday it was the harvest festival at our church, which in our village is a serious occasion with a competitive edge, particularly around the marrows. I went to admire the vegetables and hand over some jam. I mention this because of what happened by the produce table.

Three different women asked me about my jacket. Three. One of them was mid-conversation about her marrow, which had won, and she stopped praising it to say the thing I have been repeating all week.

That is not fair. It looks useful AND it has a waist. Where is it from?

She had put her finger on the whole thing. So here is the answer, written down once, with photographs.

How it happens

First, the miserable choice this jacket ended. For years my autumn coats came in exactly two kinds.

The practical one. Held everything, feared no weather, and made me look like I was setting off up Snowdon with emergency Kendal mint cake. Shapeless is being kind to it.

And the nice one. Lovely shape, precisely one pocket, into which nothing I actually carry has ever fitted. Keys or glasses. Choose.

I assumed, as one does, that this was simply the deal. Useful or flattering. Pick one and stop complaining.

What I had wrong

Here is what nobody had told me. The deal was never real. Somebody just had to put a drawstring in the right place.

The Eline is a proper field jacket, four pockets, standing collar, press studs down the front, and then at the waist there is a drawstring. You pull it in, the jacket cinches, and suddenly all that usefulness has a figure in it. The hem flares a little below the waist, the shoulders stay relaxed, and the whole thing goes from workwear to deliberate in one tug.

Mine is the Eline

It is from Manchester Boutique, a small British boutique that has been quietly dressing women like us for a few years now.

Mine is the cream, and before you say anything, yes, cream, in autumn, in England. It is a soft warm cream, more oat than white, completely matte, and over navy it looks expensive in a way my dark practical coats never once managed. Mud has so far kept a respectful distance, and if it stops doing that, there are three other colours.

The details are quietly right. A neat collar that stands up against the wind with a little press stud at the throat, a proper zip with a studded placket over it so the front sits flat, two chest pockets with flaps for the things you check often, two deep side pockets for cold hands, little tabs at the cuffs to snug them down, and buttoned shoulder tabs that make the whole thing look considered rather than issued.

What happened at the harvest festival

I wore it over a navy jumper with the waist pulled in, which is to say I got dressed for church in four minutes, and got asked about it three times before the raffle. A woman I have known twenty years asked if I had lost weight. I had not. I had gained pockets.

Since Sunday it has done two dog walks, a school run in proper drizzle, and a morning of tidying the garden with my glasses, phone, secateur-string and half a packet of biscuits distributed about my person and no handbag anywhere.

Three things I have learned since

One. The drawstring is the whole argument. A practical coat with a waist stops being outdoor equipment and starts being an outfit. One tug is the difference.

Two. Four pockets retire the handbag. Keys, glasses, phone, tissues, each with an assigned seat. I walked the dog with empty hands for the first time in years and did not know what to do with them.

Three. Cream over navy is the recipe. Navy jumper, dark trousers, cream jacket, done. It is one decision that looks like several, and it works for church and the school gate alike.

About the price

I want to be straightforward about this, because it was the thing that made me hesitate.

The Eline is £45.95 at the moment. It was £92.00.

I have spent more than that on a nice coat with one useless pocket, and about that on a practical one I resented every time I passed a mirror. For the one jacket doing both jobs, it is the best-working thing I own per compliment, and I say that as a woman who tracks such things now.

I did what I imagine you are doing now and went and read the reviews before I ordered. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not the suspiciously perfect five you see on some websites, which if I am honest made me trust it rather more. One woman had written, “I bought it for the dog walks and now it does church, town and everything in between. My anorak has not moved since.” That was the one that decided it for me.

It comes in four colours, and the green is tempting, but I will keep making the case for the cream. It is the one that makes navy look like a plan.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you and I were sat with a pot of tea and you asked me, this is what I would say.

If your coat cupboard is split between the useful one and the nice one, stop choosing. Get the field jacket with the drawstring, pull the waist in, load the pockets, and enjoy being asked about it by women whose marrows have just won prizes.

Two practical things. The sale is on now, and the first autumn stock is already going, and I should say plainly that it comes in sizes 10/12 to 16/18, so if yours is there, do not dawdle.

Useful or flattering was never the deal. One drawstring ends the argument.

Maggie