Club Foyer>Chillout Room>Depositions

Proper rainwear: memories of the heyday

Part 1

The gaberdine revolution

Only having recently acquired my first computer and browsing for rainwear sources, what sheer delight discovering your website especially after believing for some 60 years that I was entirely alone with my rainwear addiction.

My earliest recollections date back to 1943 when I was about 4 years old when my mother bought me a swishy red belted double-breasted rubber mackintosh with a matching Sou’Wester and shiny black wellies (in those wartime days clothing coupons were required as well).  There seemed to be many rainy days back then especially during shopping trips with my Mother when a lot of time was spent queuing outside shops (food rationing being in force) my Mother wearing an off-white single texture rubber mackintosh and Sou’Wester. I remember we often went just for walks in the rain and the odour from our macs and the noise of the rain beating down on them.

It was about that time when I started school, my first, a temporary arrangement for a term, mornings only, was in Portsmouth which necessitate a journey across the harbour on the ferry.   As cabin accommodation was limited this meant a standing journey on open deck and enduring frequent downpours which our rubber mackintoshes were more than capable of withstanding.

In those early days women and children were usually seen dressed in rubber mackintoshes with only the occasional sighting of a gabardine raincoat which seemed to be worn mainly by men.

As my mackintosh was a very generous fit it could be worn over my overcoat during winter weather if necessary. No doubt at home I was a nuisance whilst housework was underway hence I was usually banished to the back garden, which was quite sizable, in whatever weather thus enjoying a lot of time wearing mackintosh Sou’Wester and wellies. My Mother must have been fully confident knowing the protection such garments provided.

By now I was at a kindergarten school on our side of the harbour, which involved a mile walk or so. The services of our mackintoshes were essential.

This was when I really started noticing rainwear.

For a couple of terms there was a girl my age called Muriel who wore a red mackintosh like mine except it had an attached hood, as I was a little older by then. Apart from being seen across the road by Mother, Muriel, who lived nearby walked to and from school with me, she seemed thrilled as I wore a similar mackintosh to hers and started holding my hand onwards from the time when we were caught out in a thunderstorm. I think it was round about this time that I started being aware of gabardine raincoats.

It was a sad day when on my walk to school with Muriel she informed me she would be leaving that school at the end of term. I was really going to miss her but cheered up a little as the steady rain had now developed into a heavy downpour, arriving at the school lovely and dry under our rubber mackintoshes.

Once in the changing area one of the few girls with a navy gabardine raincoat and an elasticated rubber hood remarked that her mac had started leaking and two or three boys in their gabardines, one with a yellow oilskin Sou’Wester, the others in brown uniform caps agreed with her that their macs were suffering from the same problem; the remainder of the girls wore a selection of hooded rubber mackintoshes, hooded capes, yellow oilskins with Sou’Westers as also worn by some of the boys.

Over the next few terms more gabardine raincoats appeared at the school, some in navy blue. However the remainder were in a shade of brown, hooded for the girls, plain for boys. In those days most could be buttoned up either way - hence the hoods were purchased as an extra. Sou’westers and hoods made of rubber, oilskin or plastic were much in evidence, especially useful when a coat was being handed down from brother to sister.

Moving on now, it is early 1947, there had been a really hard winter, some children had left and others had arrived, not unusually in those days as Forces families were constantly on the move. My faithful red mackintosh had become noticeably outgrown and the rubber lining had started to ‘perish’ in various places so an urgent replacement was needed. My mother took me one day to a local outfitters armed with clothing coupons suggesting that a gabardine raincoat might be more suitable for me, if at all available (I think she guessed that I might have future problems at school with regard to ‘peer pressure’ etc and was hoping to forestall this as will become apparent later on).

The shop assistant regretted that no gabardines were in stock but explained they were expecting a delivery in a month or so. Too long to wait as my ailing mackintosh couldn’t cope with the wet spring we were already experiencing.

Hence various rubber mackintoshes were tried on, mostly double texture navy blue, with a bonded fleck fleecy lining. I didn’t like these as they were very heavy and unyielding to body movement. The last garment to be offered was a lovely SBR belted mackintosh with a fawn coloured backing and Sou’Wester which I distinctly remember had an ‘Aertex’ lining.

I was thrilled when I saw heavy rain the next morning, eager to be on my way to school. My new mac felt great and had that unforgettable odour just like my first mackintosh.

The downside was upon arriving in the changing room as usual some of the boys remarked “You’ve got a new mac then, are your family too poor to buy you a gabardine then anyway you look as though you live in a council house!” That spoiled what had started out as a great day. After a week or so the ribald remarks became less and less. Still every cloud has a silver lining and hey presto I made friends with one of the new girls called Christine. She had a wonderful off-white rubber-lined mackintosh belted double-breasted and matching Sou’Wester and again living near my home we were able to enjoy our school journeys together, often dawdling in the heavy rain, Christine admiring my mackintosh as much as I admired hers. She was a real tomboy and tempted me into larking about in the rain more than ever.

Anyway this is a convenient point to end this first chronicle and I hope you will enjoy the sequel due in the not too distant future.

Meanwhile make sure you enjoy any available downpour.

Yours sincerely

SRA

Dear SRA

Very interesting record, thankyou.   

What a sorry business, coming out in lots of early UK impermeaphile experience I think, class divisions drawn and policed so unequivocally - and cruelly - through clothing conventions - don't you think?

Haven't come across those hoods you mention as worn with gaberdines - rubberised cotton, but then 'elasticated', were they?  Gabs usually had gab hoods, didn't they?   (It strikes me as a funny combination, gaberdine mac with rubberised cotton hood... - ?)

And I would really like to know: Where is Muriel now?  And Christine?

Looking forward to the sequel!

Best

Lorraine

 

Part 2

Growing Rapidly 

We are still in 1947. It is Summer Term and an even mixture of fine days and wet ones giving my SBR mackintosh plenty of work.   Sadly this was to be my last term at that school as they only took boys up to the age of eight: this meant I was really going to miss my journeys to and from school with Christine in her white rubber mackintosh and Sou'Wester -  the heavier the rain the longer we took to dawdle,  prolonging the walk home.

Immediately after end of term there was our first family holiday.   We stayed in a remote farm in North Cornwall.  Again, there was a mix of fine days and extremely wet ones.   With petrol rationing still in force there was a lot of walking and some bus journeys.

Two places I particularly remember, Camelford, a small market town which claims to hold the record as the wettest place in Cornwall, and Tavistock in Devon.   Our visits to both places were  rewarded with continuous steady downpour.   My SBR mac and Sou'Wester were a joy to wear and the thrilling aroma of the rubber always seemed to be enhanced by the heavy rain on my mac.

Then back home after the holiday, my parents delighted that I had really enjoyed it - apparently, they were worried that I might have been disappointed by the bad weather…   They hadn’t realized my secret love of rainwear which by now was beginning to worry me slightly.

During that school holiday, like many boys in that era, I took up trainspotting, usually from a long footbridge near the local station.  There were often about a dozen other boys and sometimes a girl as well as myself.   Often, summer showers being the order of the day, Mother insisted my SBR mac with Sou'Wester and Wellingtons were worn.

I was surprised by the admiration my mac attracted from the kids assembled there, most of whom were none-too-happy wearing their double-texture fleece-lined macs, often complaining how heavy and stiff to wear they were.   Even so, we all agreed that at least we were dry and therefore our mums would not be cross with us when we arrived home.

The girl had a wonderful single-texture, single-breasted, brown rubber mackintosh. It had an  attached hood and belt.   I couldn’t help noticing that I wasn’t the only person wanting to be near her – like me, I assumed, wanting to breathe the aroma of her mackintosh and to hear it rustling in the breeze.  

Come rain or shine we trainspotters were a dedicated lot and many happy hours were spent in the rain together. The girl in the brown mackintosh seemed to enjoy the rain as much as we did - if not more. I couldn’t help noticing the expression on her face changing to an impish grin when the lightest of showers suddenly turned into a downpour.

This was a bit of a watershed time for me.   I started to become really excited in the rain, especially at the sight of the rain beating down on our girl friend’s mac – and the sound, the unique sound that rain makes on a rubber mackintosh or a really well-proofed raincoat.   I sensed the other boys assembled there seemed to be experiencing the same feelings although we never mentioned it – I suppose through embarrassment or shyness.

We’ve reached the start of the Autumn Term 1947, and once again for me a daily journey by ferry across the harbour to a new preparatory school in Southsea.   The Autumn and Winter were mostly dry and cold so the SBR mac was not worn so much to start with. And, as you can guess, whenever I wore it there were  the familiar ribald remarks from the gabardine-clad brigade.

However there was light in the darkness so to speak in the form of our next-door neighbour’s nephew,  who lived over there and started at the school when I did.   He often wore a red single-texture double-breasted, belted mackintosh with an attached hood.  He used to join me on the bus halfway on our school journey and the half-mile walk from the bus stop up to the school.   His mac had apparently been handed down from his cousin, a girl whose family  lived next door to us.  Since she went to boarding school I didn’t see a lot of her, but I remember seeing her occasionally wearing an extremely expensive-looking double-breasted gabardine mac. It was cream-coloured and looked like luxurious satin; and with the belt drawn tight and the hood pulled up it did wonders for me!   Although her cousin, Alfred, was in a junior form to me, we became good friends.

The juniors and younger children (once they had graduated from kindergarten) all had rubber macs or oilskins, but it was the girls who wore these from my age onwards. This meant me being for the next couple of terms or so the sole wearer of a rubber mackintosh. However there were to be interesting changes in times to come as we shall read!

We have reached the Spring of 1948: a wet one. My SBR and Sou'Wester were still doing ‘yeoman’ service.   Among the gabardine ‘club’ at school, there were changes afoot.  With clothes rationing still in force many macs were either second-hand or hand-me-downs - maybe even from pre-World War II – and their proofing was already well past its sell-by date.   The gaberdines of the gabardine brigade had  become useless in the rain! Replacements were required.  A couple of navy blue single-texture macs appeared, a double-texture and an oilskin as well! 

At the start of the Summer Term a new boy started from Hayling Island and as he cycled all the way from home, including a ferry crossing, in severe weather he often wore an SBR mac the same as mine, on other days he wore a nice-looking navy blue gabardine with a pale fawn cloth lining. Also there were two brothers who travelled every day from the Isle of Wight on the paddle-steamer service. They always seemed to wear pale green single-texture hooded capes and Wellingtons.   I liked the sight of them walking from the bus stop in the rain.

Some of the gabardine crowd were starting to be envious of my SBR mac as during several school outings that term their macs had started leaking during frequent heavy showers. Often, Alfred would be walking with me on these trips wearing his hooded red rubber mac, both of us completely oblivious of the rain!

Summer term ended a few days early due to an outbreak of mumps at the school. Among many others, Alfred and myself became victims also.   After the illness had passed I took my place amongst the trainspotters as before, enjoying my SBR mac during that wet August.

Alfred came to stay next door for a few days and in spite of the rain we played with various toys on top of the wide wall that separated our gardens at the back, me dressed in my SBR mac and Alfred, whose mac had foolishly been left at home, wore one of his cousin’s ‘spare’ macs (what a wonderful situation to be in!). The play conflict escalated first with water pistols then encouraged by my friend serious war was declared in the form of seaside beach buckets of water thrown over each other.  His cousin’s expensive-looking raincoat just kept defying the drenchings: and the point came for heavier equipment to be brought into play.   This took the form of wartime emergency stirrup pumps which every household had been issued to deal with incendiary bombs.   Most people had kept these – they were ideal for watering the garden etc.   So,  armed with a kitchen bucket each we proceded to soak each other with these pumps. There was an adjustable nozzle at the end of the hoses and what started as spray was soon altered to a really good jet of water.  My parents and his uncle and aunt thoroughly enjoying watching us trying to drench each other. The cousin’s raincoat just shrugged off everything thrown at it waterwise.   Although I was too embarrassed to say anything at that time I was wishing for some miracle whereby I could be wearing that coat!   Sadly, back in the real world that was not going to happen.

In spite of post-war austerity, those were wonderful days, harmless innocent play which no doubt these days would be regarded as an infringement of some obscure health and safety regulation, or evidence of a severe psychiatric disorder!

As Autumn approached little did I know I was in for a lovely surprise. During a shopping expedition for items to start the new term my Mother decided it was time for me to have a gabardine raincoat!   They were in short supply so it was a question of grabbing whatever was available: but I ended up being the proud wearer of a fawn double-breasted belted raincoat by ‘Driway’. It had a ginger-shade pile half-lining with the remainder being in fawn tartan pattern.   I was thrilled as now I would be fully accepted by the majority at school. I now had a foot firmly in both rainwear camps!  

I couldn’t wait to be back at school.   However, the start of the Autumn was like an Indian Summer -  a really dry spell for a couple of weeks or so.   Getting ready for school one morning I saw heavy rain outside and being slightly anxious said to my mother “Shouldn’t I wear my SBR mac?” to which she replied,  “No, don’t worry!   As your gabardine says on the label, it’s a weathercoat.”   Once outside I couldn’t believe how well it behaved in that heavy rain, as the raindrops made a pattering sound almost as they did on a rubber mac and just rolled off the material!

On that first morning of wet weather, wearing my first gabardine mac, I took the usual route to school - by bus to the ferry, then a harbour crossing on deck - in heavy rain - followed by the last stage, upstairs on an electric trolleybus.   Who should join me on that last stage but Alfred, wearing a brand new navy gabardine mac, which had a fabulous warm red tartan wool lining!   He in turn admiring my latest acquisition. It was also his first day wearing his new mac to school.   He agreed, he hoped the new gabardines would be a good as our rubber macs. 

An added treat a fortnight later was when he stayed next door whilst his Mother was away for several days.   This gave us the opportunity to enjoy many school journeys in the rain together, our wonderful new raincoats resisting anything that the weather subjected them to.

I never wanted to take my gabardine off. However at weekends etc I still wore my SBR mac if I wanted to go outside in the rain while my gabardine was drying off after a previous soaking.

Early in the Spring the following year, 1949, I was growing rapidly and my Mother had to let the hem of my gabardine down to allow for this. Shortly afterwards, what seemed to me like another miracle, Mother suddenly took me to the shop where it had been purchased and promptly bought me another one, this time a lot larger to allow for growth. It was another “Driway”, navy blue this time, with a bright red tartan lining.   Sheer ecstasy!  I felt I couldn’t wait to try it on in the rain, but for the time being it was to be reserved for ‘best’ wear!

By this time marks were appearing on my fawn gabardine, no doubt due to dirt from bus seats and the wooden seats on ferries.   Disaster was about to strike.   It was decided that my fawn mac would be sent to the dry cleaners and supposed reproofing!

But Mother was horrified when she saw what had been done to it.   It looked as if it had been boiled rather than dry-cleaned – and was a considerably lighter colour than when it was new.   Even so, I still loved it and continued to wear it   Fortunately the late Spring weather only produced very light showers, which it seemed to cope with – until one day, coming home, crossing the harbour, there was a downpour.   Suddenly within a few minutes enormous wet patches appeared on my mac and I felt damp leaking through the whole garment.   Within a short while the rain penetrated through my jersey, shirt, vest and shorts.  I was soaked to the skin and ended up in bed with a cold.

My Mother complained to the dry cleaners but to no avail.   After that, dry cleaners were never entrusted again with our rainwear.

So my new gabardine was worn more frequently and felt wonderful to wear in the heaviest rain.  It was always lovingly cared for and quickly and carefully arranged to dry when wet.   My SBR mac was not forgotten either as it still fitted me OK and was worn regularly to give my new gabardine well-deserved rest periods!

Just after the beginning of the Summer term 1949 two new girls started at the school.  One, named Gillian, had quite a journey to make each day, first by train into Portsmouth and then by bus, often the one I was on.   She always had her mackintosh with her, either worn or carried over her arm.   It was a very lightweight single-texture mac, with red, with a hood and an alluring pink cotton lining, with a small floral pattern.   As we became more acquainted, she would let me help her put it on, doing the buttons and belt, carefully slipping the hood over her hair and tying the elastic tape in a bow: it was magical seeing her in the rain like that.   On a couple of occasions she asked “Are you sure your gabardine mac doesn’t let the rain through?”

Part 3

Mena and other friends

Part 3 of my mackintosh memories resumes in the Summer Term of 1949.

Beside my mackintosh friend, Gillian, there was in school a lovely Indian girl called Mena.   Mena had started at the school temporarily until the end of that term. Her father was a Naval Attaché on a temporary U.K. posting.  

As Mena was sitting next to me during the lessons throughout that term we became good friends.   She always caught the same trolleybus as me half-way through our journey.  lmagine my delight when on the first wet day of our acquaintance she boarded the bus carrying a fabulous jade green lightweight single-texture mac.   It had an attached hood and belt.

Just before our destination bus-stop it had begun raining heavily, Mena stood up and slipped the mac on over her thin summer overcoat and as we were the only passengers on the top deck of the bus I couldn’t resist buttoning her mac right up for her, fastening the belt, slipping the hood up over her hair and tying the tapes. I still felt a little nervous after doing that but Mena seemed rather charmed by my actions. Imagine my delight during the half-mile walk up to the school when she reached out and held my hand, with the rain pelting down on our macs.

Mena's mac was well rain-stained by then but rustled busily as she walked along. My school cap was saturated but my ‘Driway’ gabardine was simply shrugging off the downpour.

I remember we stood still for a moment. And her saying to me: "Are you sure you’re not wet through?  Daddy says gaberdines are no good at all so we always have rubber mackintoshes!"
I assured her that my mac had never leaked yet. She seemed surprised and relieved at the same time.

Mena had two very young brothers who attended the kindergarten section of the school, which operated during different times to the rest of us, and were no doubt escorted for their journey. I  noticed however that invariably they wore fawn-coloured, belted single-texture rubber macs, Sou'Wester and shiny black wellingtons.

For a short while I had in spite of my protests been enrolled into a local cub-scout pack and on the evening of that first rain-walk with Mena, my gaberdine had another drenching coming home from cubs. The following morning more heavy rain was in progress and I seized the opportunity to wear my SBR outfit - mac, soup’wester and wellingtons.   My Mother was thoroughly delighted at my good sense - my gaberdine still wet through from the previous evening.  Mena's friendship had given me confidence to disregard any ribald remarks from the gaberdine mob. When she boarded the trolleybus at her stop and climbed upstairs to the top deck she was in raptures on seeing my SBR mac etc.   And for the first time, in addition to her jade green mac she was also in wellingtons.   I was in raptures myself!

Lessons always finished half an hour before lunch so, excluding the home-lunch local pupils, there was always - come rain or shine - an accompanied school walk usually along the seafront . That same day it was a lovely wet walk with Mena as a partner! Among the younger children who were always at the front of the school crocodile were Mena 's two little brothers in there fawn rubber macs, Sou'Wester and wellingtons.   All in all a wonderful sight in the continuous rain.

During the walk to and from the bus stop whenever it began to rain and and I was helping Mena put her mac on (fastening all buttons, including the top one!),  she always turned to me and turned my mac collar up, likewise making sure my top button was fastened.

“I do hope you will be wearing your rubber mac again, “ she would say, “I really like seeing you in it!" To which I used to promise that I would.

On two or three occasions I remember being invited to parties at Mena’s house. They were a wonderful family. On my arrival, the door was always opened by Mena who insisted undoing my mac and hanging it for me on one of the hall clothes-pegs among the family’s rubber macs, a thrilling sight. Mena was particularly excited on one or two occasions when I arrived wearing my SBR mac and soup’wrester, running her hands over it as she hung it up.
Meanwhile back at school , I was feeling much more settled and doing better in the classroom, probably because being the owner of a gaberdine mac I felt accepted by my 'peers' . I became one of the trusted pupils by the staff, which sometimes involved running errands for teachers as well as filling up inkwells , dishing out blotting paper, things like that. One such frequent errand would be to go to a corner shop a couple of streets away to purchase cigarettes or items of stationary for them. No money changed hands as we were always told to say " Mr ‘X’ will be up to pay later". Back in those days when on walks, journeys, etc, macs were always carried over the arm if not actually worn - ‘just in case’. So if sent on an errand like this even during lessons you would go down to the basement where the changing rooms were to collect your mac.

The boys’ clothes pegs were in the first part at the bottom of the stairs, the girls’ ones were through another doorway into the main part of the basement which was also used for assemblies, gym, boxing, music lessons etc; hence here there was a golden opportunity to realise my dreams.  It was a very day and having just quickly completed an errand by running both ways, gained a few extra minutes, so hanging my wet mac on my peg, I hurried into the girls’ section where their macs were hanging; Gillian’s red mac and Mena's mac in jade green stood out like searchlights among candles. I could no longer resist the temptation and first tried on Gillian’s mac, doing up the buttons, fastening the belt and raising the hood.   It made a lovely rustling sound but there was only a slight aroma from the rubber material no doubt due to the floral print cotton lining) still it felt great wearing it. Next came my ultimate pleasure as I carefully put on Mena's mac, treating it with the greatest care and respect as I buttoned and fastened up everything including the hood. The delightful aroma of the rubber was overpowering, let alone the rustling noise it made; the material was probably rubberised satin rather than ordinary cotton, hence the wonderful sheen it had.   Not only that - it also had a generous matching rubber shoulder-buggy.  I don’t recall a maker’s label but later I elicited from Mena that all the family’s macs were bought in India hence the quality.

Returning to my classroom, nobody, not even the teacher, seemed to notice the length of time I had been absent, so all was well.  I did feel terribly guilty though for what I had done and never told either of the girls about it, still less any of the boys . In geography we had learnt things about the far east and its climate, which gave me the opportunity to ask Mena what it was like to be out and about in the monsoon season, I understood that life carried on as normal in spite of the continual downpour with everybody fully protected by rubber mackintoshes and capes .

The end of that wonderful summer term was approaching too rapidly as early in august Mena and her family were to depart back home to India. However there were a few final treats in store; in the form of saturday afternoon invitations to Mena’s house followed by a tea before my journey home. Usually we went round the shops together, mainly heading for the toy dept in local stores of which there were plenty.  On all these  outings we were always suitably mackintoshed, raincoated and wellingtoned up (just in case).  Just as everybody else was in those far of realistic days!

Once we were caught in a downpour and arrived home looking well drenched.  Mena insisted on undoing my gaberdine first and taking it to the kitchen so it could be dried for me, adding that I must not put on a wet mac to go out in. Their mother was amazed that my 'Driway' hadn’t leaked, I heard later: I was really touched by Mena' s concern and expressed my gratitude as I unfastened her rubber mackintosh and helped her off with her wellingtons; I just couldn’t resist feeling the rubber lining and putting it against my cheek just to make sure the rain hadn’t penetrated her mac, she was really moved by this resulting in us having quite a long spontaneous 'cuddle' my first ever - at the tender age of ten. Luckily her parents didn’t seem to mind at all. Sadly all good things come to an end as early in August I was invited once more for what was to be their last saturday before departure to India; on an errand for my Mother my gaberdine had a good 'wetting' that morning so to Mena's delight I arrived clad in my SBR, Sou'Wester and wellingtons. Her parents asked, as it was their last saturday in England, could her two little brothers come with us to the shops.  Naturally I replied "I would really like it!”.   So there we were, a fully mackintoshed and wellingtoned foursome, heading for the shops in what started as gentle but steady rain.   There was even a bigger treat in store: towards the end of our expedition the former light sprinkling turned into a steady downpour.  I was anxious for Mena’s welfare, and that of the two little boys, but this feeling was offset seeing them jumping up and down in the puddles and running back and forth in that deluge. I must confess we dawdled quite a bit on the way back to her house, Mena often glancing enviously at my SBR and I looking longingly at her green jade mackintosh as well as admiring her brothers’ fawn rubber mackintoshes and Sou'Westers in turn.  I think they liked my SBR - one of them turned and said to me "You’re wearing a policeman's mac!" Arriving at Mena's house I was looking forward to a lovely 'tea' and a warm welcome from her parents who seemed perfectly happy for us to have enjoyed the downpour . Her mum even remarked to me that it was a blessing that I was wearing a rubber mackintosh in such weather!

 Once again Mena insisted on unfastening my SBR and removing my Sou’Wester.  I noticed this time she was feeling the inside of my mac just to make sure. I reciprocated gently removing her mac and doing likewise. Then simultaneously we turned and repeated the performance with the little boys’ macs. I found their macs were of a heavier texture than their sister’s, but had a similar generous rubber shoulder buggy. Without comment we both spontaneously felt their mac linings just to make sure and finally helping each other in the removal of wellingtons . Then there was, without any prompting, a mutual foursome cuddle.
After a wonderful 'tea' it was time to say our farewells.  Sadly, at that age, and in those days, nobody thought about being 'pen friends ', a phenomenon which didn’t arrive until the late 1950s at the earliest. Hence we were unable to remain in touch.

The rest of that Summer was warm and dry, and even during the fortnight's holiday in Cornwall there was little to report on other than the occasionally drizzly day. The dry weather continued through the start of autumn term. In spite of missing Mena's and also Gillian' s company - Gillian had also had left at the end of the previous term - Alfred from earlier days returned for the next two terms, and this at least cheered me up a little as at times we could be a right mischievous pair.

It wasnt until the beginning of November that the autumn storms arrived. At the end of school one day a violent storm was in progress, when Alfred threw a challenge to me.  We should walk part of the bus route, just to test how good our gaberdine macs really were (shades of 'Storm­strollers' adventures here, but back in 1949).   So he lured me into walking the promenade, which the heavy seas and high tide were spraying over the seawall, quite apart from the rain. We braved the elements for something like half an hour, and then Alfred lost interest as the downpour had abated temporarily. We consulted each other as to how our macs had performed.   We agreed they were the best ever.   My left Wellington however had developed a leak. I was worried how my Mother was going to react:  I still had quite a journey in front of me including a harbour ferry crossing. But Alfred came to the rescue, suggesting I had tea at his house before going home .

His Mother and Aunt were a little shocked at our drenched gaberdines but shook them out and quickly put them to dry; they were really kind and understanding and phoned my Mother to explain my lateness owing to the tea invitation being careful not to mention my saturated condition. Arriving home eventually, I had a mild scolding on account of the leaking Wellington, which I asserted was not my fault and any way they were meant for walking through puddles in! This was humourously accepted and a new pair were promised to be bought at the weekend.

A week or so later Alfred and I repeated our mutual challenge albeit without the sea spray, the sea that day being suprisingly calm so we made do with just the heavy downpour! Those poor little macs ; how cruel were to them! But once again both gaberdines withstood the deluge .

T'he remainder of that year and into spring 1950 the weather became suprisingly quiet with little or no snow and only the occasional rainshower. Half-way through Summer Term that year a girl named Anne joined the school from an army family on a temporary posting Sitting next to me in the same form we became friends, she also travelling part way on the same bus route as myself. The few rainy days that we had that summer she wore a navy blue gaberdine mac and grey ribboned school hat like the other girls. She would let me turn her collar up and fasten her top button - before doing the same for my mac.

One day in a downpour I feared for her well-being but she assured me with thanks that she was warm and dry underneath, although her school hat was completely saturated.  I was thrilled the following day as during more heavy rain she boarded the bus wearing not only wellingtons but a thin yellow oilskin elastic-fastening hood. It was wonderful seeing her fully protected in all that rain. Needless to say that on yet another teacher's errand during lessons I managed as before to eke out enough time to try her mac on in the changing room.  The maker's label was exciting in itself - 'STORMGAD' rainproof (yes that is the correct spelling).

A convenient time to end this instalment. My next epistle will recount how I became unwittingly fully immersed in serious gaberdine addiction.

Part 4

Here is Part 4 of my rainwear memories.   We are now at the start of Autumn term, 1950.

Little did I know, but unpleasant changes were on the horizon.  For a start, a few of us at school were being pressurised for the dreaded 11+ exam due the next Spring, so as to enter a local Grammar School, an idea I was none too happy about. Weatherwise we were enjoying an Indian Summer. Sadly I had outgrown my SBR mac which was sent along with other garments to a needy local family via my mother's church. I didn't mind too much as I realisd it would be giving full protection to a needy boy: I was however allowed to keep the Sou'Wester as it was still a good fit.  Meanwhile the hems on my 'Driway' gaberdine had to be let down to their maximum as I had put on spurt of growth. At the beginning of November the Autumn storms set in with a vengeance, pushing my gaberdine to its limits. Another boy, who sometimes travelled to school at the same time as me and who I had only seen wearing an overcoat, used to get soaked to the skin and from then on always wore a navy blue gaberdine.  This looked rather creased at least on the first day, as if it had been in storage for quite a while.   But the raindrops just rolled off it so the proofing must have been excellent.

A time of doom was about to strike. During a period of heavy rain with localised flooding my father's demob gaberdine suddenly gave up and and let the rain through. This put him in a less than perfect mood.  The following day, caught out in a downpour on the ferry, my 'Driway' gaberdine started leaking.  Once home, it was quickly put to dry.  A little later my father arrived home.   He was carrying a rather bulky-looking parcel. Unwrapped, there was exposed a ghastly-looking fawn double-texture riding mac, a pair of single-texture rubberised overtrousers and a pair of galoshes! Gaberdines, my father stated, were totally useless: he was never going to wear one ever again!  Mother was not impressed with the riding mac any more than I was, as she had recently purchased a superb lightweight white single-texture double-breasted belted and hooded rubber mackintosh - with a deep rubber shoulder buggy!  I have never seen such a wondeful mac since the one belonging to my school friend Mena's, as recounted above (in Part 3).

Sadly, my father had noticed my gaberdine drying on the clothes horse, and my mother carelessly mentioned that mine had started leaking - whereupon my father announced: "That's it! From now on you will wear your SBR mac". 

I wouldn't have minded, but as Mother explained - it had recently been given away!    This was received with some anger, until Mother, managing to get a word in edgeways, told him that I had actually completely outgrown it, a fact, she pointed out, he hadn't bothered to notice.

The upshot of all this was that a riding mac was to be purchased for me forthwith... My worst fears! 

How it would strengthen the hand of that fearful gaberdine mob at school!   I could picture their reaction all too vividly...

Mother pleaded on my behalf, suggesting that maybe an SBR mac could be purchased instead, a remark that did seem to ease the tense atmosphere a little.   Sadly, it appeared that supplies of these macs were drying up, with only occasional sightings on the streets: sad times, as I enjoyed them as much as gaberdines. [I take a short pause here to offer a sincere apology  to club members who are riding mac enthusiasts and may be offended by these remarks.   In fact, if I were fortunate enough to have a girl or lady friend who wore them I feel I too would be an enthusiast...]

Over the next couple of weeks the threatened riding mac failed to manifest itself, and the domestic atmosphere returned to normal as my father had a sudden promotion at work.   He was to be head of a new department, and thus more to occupy him than leaking gaberdine macs.   I was saved by the bell, one could say!   

It was these events though which drove me into serious gaberdine addiction, macs that I had simply come to love. How could anyone despise such comforing garments?!   Gaberdine raincoats have stood the test of time and frequently show for the most part they can offer the protection equal to their rubber counterparts.

I found myself like  a spaceship far away in the universe drawn irreversibly into a black hole bearing the label "Gaberdine Rainwear".   Once entered there was to be no escape. And anyway, once there, would anyone really want to?

At the young age of eleven I began seriously examining gaberdine macs in detail, starting with my 'Dryway'. I discovered that invariably the lining was not attached at the hem. Instead, each half was kept in place by a short fabric strap attached to a seam.   I had often been mystified by the rustling noise  in the shoulder region, and running my hand up between the lining and the outer cloth I was thrilled to discover the rubber interlining for the first time.   And then, putting my head between the cloth and the interlining I experienced for the first time the completely magical odour. I now realized it was the interlining that had saved my shoulders and chest on that fateful day when the downpour penetrated my mac for the first time.

The temptation had won, I was now a total addict, and with my childish mind decided to try to be the self-styled champion, fighting for the cause of gaberdine raincoats everywhere!

At school, still a trusted and reliable pupil, there were plenty of errands to be run for teachers. By running as quickly as possible I could gain extra time in the changing room and I found myself examining other pupils macs.   I was quite scientific in a way as I compared quality and dimensions of the macs' interlinings, and held the outer cloth of the garments up to the light to sample the density of the cloth.   I discovered in this way that many were equal to the quality of my 'Driway'.   A few were not so good, rather flimsy in their construction, with what appeared to be porous cloth and minimal interlinings. Later, checking the few gaberdines in the girls' section, I found their gaberdines in the main to be of better quality and having more generous rubber interlinings than those for us boys.   Mainly though it was single- texture mackintoshes and capes that were the order of the day in the the girls' section.  

Meanwhile my 'Driway' gaberdine seemed to have miraculously recovered its proofing and was coping with moderate showers. I was checking it regularly with my new-found knowledge, unbeknownst to my parents, feeling between the two layers of cloth to ascertain any penetration and giving myself a little treat sampling the aroma from the interlining before hanging the mac to dry.

December was mainly cold and dry so mostly I wore my overcoat.   During the school holiday period a minor miracle occured: one of my mother's many church friends had told how her husband - a bit of a boffin - had reproofed her gaberdine raincoat with as-new results whereupon my mother arranged for my 'Driway' to recieve the same treatment, result!   My mac was back to its original self, I was thrilled, even my hard-to-satidfy Father was impressed.   So light at the end of the tunnel as it was beginning to look as if my replacement mac in the future would be another gaberdine.

We are now in the year 1951, the weather was cold and dry mostly until the approach of Easter holidays, my 'Driway' gaberdine performing as good as new on the few wet days that there were.

Subconsciously, I was becoming more daring in my rainwear activities, with the guilt or shame that I had felt earlier steadily diminishing.

One wet afternoon my mother was collected by a friend in her car for a church activity and only wore an overcoat and carried an umbella.   The rain became a steady downpour so I seized the opportunity to try on mother's 'Telemac' rubber mackintosh and found it fitted me quite well - by now I was quite tall for my age, eleven and a half.   It was thrilling wandering about the back garden with the rain pelting down on her mac.

Fortunately I  just got indoors in time to hear a car pull up outside, with mother returning in it. But it wasn't long before she noticed her soaking wet mac hung to dry and asked me why it was like that. Thinking quickly, I said I had been outside to fetch coal and wood ready for the fire that evening.   My mac, I added, was still drying out from the errand that I had completed for her that morning.

She was happy with this explanation, concerned only that I might have got her mac dirty. Anyway I hadn't, and all was well.   

A few days later, whilst mother was on Church business, I felt really mischievous again and tested my poor 'Driway' mac to the limit, out in the garden in a terrific downpour.  I was excited to find that although it was really rainstained no rain had actually penetrated!    This gave me tremendous encouragement in furthering the cause of gaberdine raincoats.

During the summer term came some encouraging social rainwear events: one day in the changing room a younger boy called Anthony came over to me with his gaberdine mac open and said "You've got the same mac as me, some people say they're no good but I think they're wonderful, don't you?" 

I agreed.

"Gaberdine macs are my favorites, I really love them too."

"They really keep us warm and dry, don't they?" Anthony continued. "I had my first one when I was in the Kindergarten class.  A fawn-coloured one.   I'm sure I remember seeing you in one the same."

I replied, "Yes, I vaguely remember seeing you as well wearing it. My fawn one was my first one too."   

He then added that he had had a red rubber mackintosh and Sou'Wester when he started at the school, but in heavy rain the inside was often wet with condensation.  This caused him to suffer from bronchitis, so his Mum immediately bought him a gaberdine mac - and he'd been dry in the rain ever since. 

I told him when I started school I had had a rubber mackintosh as well, but luckily I hadn't had the same problem with it. He said he remembered seeing me in my SBR mac a few times adding that he liked the look of it. He asked me what it was like in the rain.   

I thanked him, replying that it was real fun to wear and no risk of condensation as the rubber was on the outside.   I also mentioned the sad demise of my first gaberdine due to the dry cleanings. He said he was sorry to hear that, adding that his Mum didn't let their macs near a dry cleaners for the same reason!

His conversation cheered me up a lot.  I had had Alfred in the past and now I had another super gaberdine ally!   Not long after that I had a tea invitation to his home, a great time with Anthony eagerly telling his Mum about us having the same 'Driway' macs. 

Not long after that my mother insisted I return the invitation and invite him to tea with us. This I did.   

It was a wet day and I met him off the ferry on my side of the harbour to show him the way to my house. Great! He was wearing his 'Driway' mac, of course, and even better, wellingtons.  And he carried a shoe bag containing his house shoes.   We had a great tea and then, like a miracle, because my father was home as well, my mother said to Anthony, "I see you are wearing the same mac as Peter's" and then without any prompting Anthony told her about our first conversation when we became friends, including his rubber mac condensation experience.   What a great friend! And as my father was home as well, joining in the conversation, I thought to myself, at long last this will put to rest for good the dreaded omen of the riding mac.   Accompanying Anthony homeward on the bus to the Ferry I thanked him profusely for being such a good friend, hence there were several more two-way tea invitations, till we both left that scholl and went our separate ways.

To be continued...

SRA

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