I think coats are romantic.
As a child, I fantasized about wearing coats. Growing up in Sydney, a wooly cardigan was all I needed to get through the Aussie winters. Every book I read and every film I watched, it seemed the characters wore a coat of some sort. Paddington Bear had his blue duffel coat, Veruca Salt wore a white fur coat to the Wonka factory and Joseph had his amazing technicolor coat. The moody image of James Dean, collar up, walking down a city street, the movie Doctor Zhivago, COAT HEAVEN. (I wanted both Julie Christies and Omar Sharifs) No other item of clothing seemed to have so many personalities. Coats screamed adventure to me! I dreamt of the selection I would have for specific occasions. A long, heavy double-breasted tweed for brisk walks in the country. A luxurious embellished opera coat for attending formal events. A trench coat for light rainy days.
At the age of 17, I travelled to Europe. I  remember being in Milan watching the ladies in their coats oozing effortless elegance. I was witnessing Max Mara toffee colored gorgeousness. I’m certain this early observation is why I’m partial to camel and cream-colored coats.
When I arrived in London, I purchased my first coat at a thrift shop, a heavy wool navy peacoat. Since then there have been many and in an array of styles. Some women have lots of shoes … I have closets full of coats. The coat is the only item of clothing that I spend silly money on, take care of and keep the longest.(some now for over 25 years) They are my dear old friends who have made winter my favorite season.♥
-Simone Silverman