February 16 2012
For my 44th birthday, my true love gave me a leather jacket. I had asked for an elegant urban mac, but Mr A was determined to introduce me to the joys of Belstaff – a company best known for its high-tech motorcycling clothes. Neither of us owns a motorbike and I have never shown the slightest interest in owning a leather jacket, so where the idea came from is a mystery. However, we were near the London flagship store, so I decided to humour him.
And I’m glad I did. The shop itself is bright and white and minimally stocked in a way that whispers of hefty price tags. And the clothes are beautiful. We picked out the short, belted Triumph jacket (£1,056) in a seductively soft, dark-brown leather. It fitted like a glove and – contrary to all my preconceptions – made me look chic and somewhat Italian rather than ready to take to the road. I forgot all about my need for a new mac and Mr A proceeded to the till.
My jacket doesn’t keep out the rain as a mac would, it makes no allowances for an expanding waistline (something of an issue in a purchase meant to last a lifetime), and it clashes with my new handbag. But it makes me feel fabulous. And that is what clothes are for.