I like your Berghaus

My husband was offered no less than £150 in the street for his Berghaus jacket the other day.

It is an early 90s number.  Better than functional – it is an anti-elemental fallout shelter.  It is loud blocks of primary colour. Primary school, that is.  You could learn all your shapes and colours from that coat.  It is a bit like wearing a very big shoe around yourself. It has a hood like a tunnel so you have to move your eyes with your whole body. It is not snuggy.

A guy said: “I sell them – they’re coming back. Here’s my number. £150.”

He made my old man’s day. Had the guy said, “I really like your coat. Where did you get it?… What’s that? It’s so old I won’t find one in a shop? Oh no! I love it. Oh well, good luck to you. Nice coat, mate.” Jonathan would have taken it off and forced it on him on the spot.

Reader, that’s the bloke I married.

So today he is a Dad in a Trendy Coat which he couldn’t possibly bring himself to sell because that would feel all wrong.

But it’s nice for him to know he is teetering on the cutting-edge of fashion, oblivious to the sartorial razor right under his feet. I think that’s how it is, really.

Picture coming.


“£150!” he says, “well you can leave it but it wasn’t £150.”

“What was it?”

“£100.” Then he sucks his lip a bit, “I think. And it was early 80s.”

“Ok then.”

The coat has been in his life longer than I have.  So has our television.


2 thoughts on “I like your Berghaus

  1. I look forward to the picture.
    I got a similar thing with my tent, when I realised that, over twenty years, it had turned into an object of desire. It is called a Phoenix Phreak, too, which is a pretty good name for a tent. Though it’s not really for everyday wear.

    • The tent is exactly the same thing… and I have recently started collecting the discontinued Denby crockery I remember my grandparents owning. It has come that full historico-naff circle. Shameful.

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