It's far, far too big, which inadvertently proved a great asset to me in the January my youngest was born, seeing as how I could still fasten up all the poppers, with plenty room besides to thrust my hands deep in to the pockets.
Thing is, my youngest has just turned fifteen, and sadly, unlike her ladyship, my comfy old rag is now starting to show all the signs of wear and tear from those generous years of loyal service.
The stitching is unravelling, bits of padding is poking through, and even I have to admit I'm beginning to look more and more like Peggy from out of "Heartbeat", than the smart,
But how on earth will I manage to replace it? The inner pockets can possibly slip six twenty-pound salmon's in there. (I say possibly, because I want to make it perfectly, absolutely and crystal clear here, I have never, of course, ever actually tried to. To date.) But there you see, those inner pockets are sooo darn useful.
If ever I feel the need for a jaunt out with my camera, forget the old kit bag, I have a separate pocket for every lens, battery, hairbrush (well, it gets windy out), emergency lipstick, credit cards, phone, flask of
The fondest memory I have of it is on the year when the biker boys were on their annual stay. We had tickets to see "The Who" during TT week, which was held inside a vast Marquee tent, set up with it's own hugely over-priced bars. Scores of us filed through security to be patted down for illegal booze. No one dared to frisk the seemingly heavily preggie lady with the bunch of neer-do-wells at her side. (Each and every other one of those beside me were though - teehee.) I managed to smuggle a whole box of wine and two six-packs of beer through, without so much as a raised eyebrow. (Mind, I did sweat someone might recall me on the way out again, asking where I'd dumped the freshly-birthed new-born.)
Ahhh, so, so many happy days this jacket and I have shared.
Sure, I know it sorely needs chucking, there are no arguments left standing for me to continue to hang on to this thing.
No need for haste, eh?
Maybe I'll just retire it to a peg in the back of the cloakroom for a little bit first..
Come on you guys, I know I am not alone here - fess up, what is it you can't bear to bring yourself to part with? Everyone has something, and after all, it's only fair.. I've already gone and shown you mine.