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Dear Lorraine,
Looking through the site and finding the 'Robert Hirst' advertisment I was reminded of my first brush with the elements, which happened when I was 11, and at school. We still had uniform raincoats and naturally, I was very proud of mine, which was a 'Robert Hirst' rather than the 'Sartor' which my friend Mary had acquired. Somehow or other, a rivalry over the qualities of these macs developed, which Mary suggested that we should settle by waiting for a suitable deluge, and, instead of catching the bus as usual, deliberately miss it, and walk home through the rain.
We had to wait for several weeks for the right weather. We had a couple of showery days, but our lovely gaberdines just laughed them off, as if they were nothing! Eventually, though, an afternoon arrived which was promising. Black clouds and grumbles of thunder! We deliberately hung back from the crowd leaving after the bell, and took our time pulling on our macs, carefully buckling our belts, tying our hoods and so on. We though we needed to be well battened down for what was to come. By the time we were ready, the school bus had drawn away. We had about three miles to go, perhaps an hour's walk.
We both felt excited. We stole glances at each other, admiring our 'ready for anything look' ! I was quite unworried, shrouded in my beautiful 'Junette' . I've always been able to sense the mood of my rainwear, and I could feel the confidence of this gaberdine. We would battle through whatever was to come! Then the rain began to patter against my hood, an occasional big raindrop making a louder smack as the storm probed at our defences .Above us, the sky was a threatening dark grey, almost black. Against the darkness, silvery lightning flickered, and the thunder crackled around us. I looked across at Mary and she grinned back. We squealed at each other as each thunderclap rolled over. We were loving the sheer 'scaryness' of this, out braving the storm in our lovely new macs.
Then, with hardly any warning - CLOUDBURST! Rain smashed down on us in torrents, crashing against our hoods, and cascading down our macs. I looked across at Mary. She was no longer smiling . Her mac was starting to look battered and somehow tired. Caught in the same rain burst, my grey gaberdine, which up to now had seemed so sure of itself, was starting to waterstain and darken. No longer did it seem to be enjoying the weather. The ferocious beating went on and on, and I began to sense the beginnings of desperation as we trudged through the semi darkness, now lit only by the frequent flashes of lightning. I began to fear for my struggling mac, feeling it begin to despair as the storm continued to hover right over us.
Exhaustion set in, and the the mac began to fail. I could feel wetness, first in my hair, and very quickly afterwards around my head and shoulders. Within minutes the collapse was total and water seemed to be streaming in everywhere. Mary's 'Sartor' had succumbed as well, there was nothing to choose between the two of us. I looked at my watch. We had been enveloped in the storm for only 20 minutes but our resistance was over!
When I eventually reached home, I remember standing in the kitchen while my mum helped me peel away successive layers of water soaked clothing , while my mac, hung over the back of chair, dripped into a huge puddle on the kitchen floor. Mum was scandalised. "Brand new gaberdine, cost a fortune and look at it" she said. "Useless". She even took it back to the shop to complain, but they wouldn't have any of it. "Showerproof - yes" they said. "Thunderstormproof - no". And I'm sorry to say that from then on, the poor thing couldn't be said to be even showerproof. The proofing seemed to have 'died' in the deluge, and for the next three years, when I wore my mac to school every day, anything more than a heavy drizzle was too much for it to bear. I used to have to wear a nylon mac to help it out, much to the amusement of my friends. Eventually it was sent away to the jumble sale, and replaced by my first trenchcoat - but that's another story.
Best Wishes
'Stormstroller'
One we hope to hear one day - please?
Lorraine.
PS I asked Mrs Prior for a comment:
Dear Stormstroller
I hope so much that this salutary experience of yours persuaded you to think very seriously about a fully waterproof mackintosh.
This wouldn't of course require you to turn away from the traditional gaberdine - you would just have to ensure that it was equipped with a properly tailored rubberised interlining. This can make a raincoat rather demanding to wear it is true, but the price is one that the true enthusiast will be thoroughly happy to pay. The right materials will impart a very satisfactory voice to the garment, the right nose, and altogether the right kind of cloakroom manner.
MP
Well ... perhaps MP may have a point! But I love nothing better than pulling on my best Burberry trenchcoat and challenging the storm to do its worst.
Mostly we win, sometimes, the rain wins, but not that often. We can usually battle through the rain succesfully, but I have to admit that some of the thunderstorms last summer were a severe trial!
Best Wishes
Stormstroller