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| Chongqing to Three Gorges, Nov. 1998 |
I bought this Beaufort coat, shown at left, in November 1998 at the old
Orvis shop on 45th Street by Grand Central Station, in anticipation
of a trip to China, to include an excursion down the Yangtse River through the
Three Gorges. I was looking for a versatile coat to keep me warm enough on the
river at night and in the early mornings, but one that wouldn’t roast me at
other times. I settled on this one over a versatile Patagonia model and never
looked back.
At the time, Barbour coats, especially among American males,
were not the ubiquitous symbols of the American upper-middle class that they
have become. When the weather cools in autumn and before the spring thaw,
Barbours have become part of a stylish uniform, worn on the train to the city, in the
Escalade to yoga class, and sometimes even in the country while actually
stalking ducks or trout with a faithful dog or rod.
Lately, my wife, the DG, has taken to hanging mine far away from
other valued coats, usually this means on a rack at the top of the cellar
stairs. She says that it has a peculiar odor that apparently will never go
away. A couple of years ago, I took it to an Orvis shop in Darien, Connecticut
to have it refurbished at the coat hospital; but it was refused. According to
Orvis, the refurb would have cost more than a new coat, which did not come as
any great shock to me. Actually, I took it as a badge of honor.
I had it professionally finished a couple of times, and,
memorably, tried to wax it myself once. Once was enough. But, admittedly, there
were long stretches during which, either due to procrastination or an
unreasonable clinging to the particular pattern of disrepair and fading, I
failed to appear at Barbour coat court at the appropriate times.
As it turned out, it did not prove to be a good travel coat.
Primarily, this is due to its weight when well waxed. Features meant to
ward off nasty brambles while bird hunting or generally scavenging through
fields, make it hard to pack, too heavy for lots of city walking, and
unforgiving in the daytime heat of China, to name one place. Admittedly, and with at least a smidgeon of regret, I took a number of trips without being deterred by these character flaws of an old friend.
On the other hand, in northeastern fall weather, into
mid-December and in early spring, in other words, in its element, it has served
me particularly well for many years. The Beaufort is more than just a coat – or a symbol of belonging
to a certain kind of posh set – as with the best things we wear it became an
integral part of my life. At times, in its prime, it was a good practical coat
in cool and or wet weather. It became a convenient everyday commuting coat.
But, and here’s the real test, I always felt great wearing it, as if it were a
part of me: A tough, oily second skin.
Perhaps that’s why the Barbour company and its products have
lasted so long and are still valued by millions.
One of these days, I’ll have to get another. Until then,
this one hangs in a safe place where its curious aroma of wax, smoke (Weber),
cities on three continents, and salt/river water can’t spread to other coats
and scarves. Their loss.
