Hi Lorraine,
Reading Abigail, Morag and Brenda's reminiscences of the schooldays in gaberdine really brought back my own fond memories of my gaberdine raincoat.
As another child of the 1950's/60's I too went to a school where uniform was strictly enforced. In our case outerware was the navy gaberdine raincoat, except in the summer term.
I had always been fond of wearing rainwear from as far back as I can remember - as long as it had a hood. My earliest recollections are of being dressed in a rubberised cotton hooded raincoat, fastened securely and the hood pulled firmly up.
When I was about eight, I was home from school one evening, on my own, (my mother had gone to the shops and as it was raining, I declined to go with her), when a knock came at the back door. I answered it - and nearly died of fright.
On the doorstep stood a figure in a dark red gaberdine raincoat, with hood pulled tightly up, just as I wore mine. But what made this figure so sinister was that her face was also covered, except for two eyes looking through holes. A nose made a small mound in the centre of the cover.
The caller was a friend of my mother's who was visiting the town from her (then) home in Sweden. Seeing my panic she quickly unbuttoned the face cover. I had never seen one before, but apparently they were not rare in Sweden.
By the time I went through secondary school, it was natural to wear a volumous gaberdine mac with equally volumous hood. It did not take much more than a dark cloud to have the hood pulled up and tied securely under the chin. Whilst in transit on any journey, it was rarely taken down!
Somehow the volumous nature of both garment and hood gave a feeling of security, especially as I was vertically challenged against my school peers, and often the target for being bullied. With my mac on and fully buttoned and fastened, and the hood pulled over my head and equally securely tied, I could retreat into my own little world, safe from my tormentors. How I would have loved one of those button-on face covers to disapppear completely from the world!
My last school gaberdine was new for my fourth year, although by then school coat regulation had begun to relax. I wasn't letting mine go so easily!
I left school at sixteen, not so short against my contemporaries, and went for a year to the local technical college. I still wore my gaberdine whenever the weather even threatened, much to the amusement of my new class colleagues. But I always had the last laugh when it rained heavily!
From college I went to work in a bank, and still wore my trusty gaberdine. Two other juniors started at the same time as me. Both were trendy misses and couldn't comprehend my love for the old school raincoat. However one of the supervisors, a fearsome woman who ruled like a sergeant major also came to work in a navy gaberdine raincoat!
There was an immediate, but unspoken bond between us, and whilst the other junior staff went in fear of her, I always had her ear and her sympathy. Garberdines were great bonders!
Eventually I met a young man, and we eventually became engaged. However he made no bones about my being 'old fashioned'; I should have been warned! We married, and whilst on honeymoon (in Cambridge!) he bought me a new raincoat - a long raglan-style loose proofed cotton garment with an equally floppy attached hood.
"I want you to wear this now, I'm not taking you out in that old fashioned school coat", he demanded. Despite telling him that I liked that old gaberdine, he had no thought but that I was 'letting him down' in public! I obeyed, but still wore the gaberdine for work. This made him angry, and he bullied me mercilessly.
One Saturday I had to work - we had a rota system - but that perticular day we also had an inspection in progress. It was not going well, and after clsing the doors, we were all made to work late into the afternoon.
As it was summer, I had not worn my mac, and indeed after I got home, did not go to our outdoor wear wardrobe until the evening. My gaberdine was gone!
When I asked him if he had seen it, he said yes - he had taken it with some other old-fashioned things (mostly inherited from my grandmother) to a jumble sale. Now I couldn't 'show him up' again! Whether they had sold it I don't know -I doubt it - but it was too late to pursue its retrieval.
That night we had a terrble row, and in his rage he hit me.
This was the last straw, and I determined to leave him. Fortunately he went out the pub, as he usually did on Saturday, which meant he would come home late, and well inebriated.
I packed a bag whilst he was out with as much as I could manage, meaning to come back for the rest of my things. First I went to my mothers', but she always regarded my husband as a prodigy and told me not to be so silly and go home! I wandered the streets and eventually slept a little in a disused shed.
Desperate the next day, I looked for somewhere to stay - on a Sunday! Passing a church in late morning the Bank supervisor was just emerging, and espied me. As always she took me under her wing.
It turned out that she lived on her own, and had a respectable collection of rubber and plastic rainwear, to which she introduced me. I became hooked, and have enjoyed plastic (and to some extent, nylon) rainwear ever since, and wear it in various formats most of the time now (even indoors!). I still get the same feeling of security from the wearing of securly fastened raincoats with hood up equally securely tied. Indeed two worn together gives an even greater feeling of security, as well as stimulation.
Over thirty years have passed since those episodes, and gaberdine raincoats have vanished from the face of the earth. How I wish that I could obtain one now - in navy, complete with that volumous square-cut hood, and perhaps one of those Swedish button-on face covers. It would be well worn - inside and out!
Steph
This is a rewrite of an earlier draft: which readers fascinated by Steph's fascinating biog might like to look at as well (LE).
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