I haven’t purchased a winter coat in four years. In fact, the only coat to my name is parked in a hall closet at my dad’s house halfway across the country in Clearwater, Kansas. This arrangement, coupled with my fondness of layering, suited me just fine … till about a week ago.
That’s when (a) the West decided to get cold, (b) I became a wimp or (c) some combination of (a) and (b). I shivered up and down Wilshire Boulevard, thinking that all these mild winters had finally spoiled me, that my California self had beaten my inner Kansan into submission. But when the cold breeze and dark skies followed me to Vegas over the weekend and my trusty layering failed miserably, I decided it must be time to give in and buy a coat. Not just any coat. One that is timeless, stylish (so I don’t have to turn around and buy a new one in a matter of months).
Enter the swing coat, my favorite classic design. My biggest pet peeve with the majority of coat styles is that so many have tiny armholes. Sleeves bunching up inside? Not cute. Arms packed in like sausage? So not cute. Roomy armholes to accommodate layering and my non-toothpick arms? Totally cute.
