Barbour: An Appreciation

(Key New England wardrobe: Beloved Barbour Beaufort, Boston Red Sox cap and yellow slicker)

The other day I had a bit of a whinge about some bygone (or soon to be bygone) products and companies that I'll miss. From favorite old department stores to less than well-loved airlines, it's still hard sometimes to say goodbye to things we've grown accustomed to. Let's consider this post the anti-whinge...an appreciation of something I love and that has always provided me with the utmost protection. Further, I am pleased to say we are celebrating only the first of many milestones along our walk down life's highway, our 10th anniversary. Yes, kind reader(s), this is a celebration of my BBB...Beloved Barbour Beaufort.

I remember unwrapping the parcel from the North of England on the day my BBB arrived...the smell of the waxed cotton, the stiffness of the fabric, the little green and gold enameled collar pin that said in clear Arial-ish sans-serif font: BARBOUR. I thought perhaps I'd made a mistake and that this was going to be one of those rigid coats--like a bad jean jacket--that you would always want to wear, but the garment itself would make it no fun to do so. Au contraire, mon ami!!

If you've never had the singular pleasure of breaking in a Barbour, well, it is certainly something to be savoured. Yes, it was a bit stiff for the first couple of wearings, and I fretted mightily over the first few scratches, but like the best sterling silver, Barbour's develop a deep, rich patina by way of all the scratches, folds, and wear. They become like the one pair of jeans in your wardrobe that aren't too loose or too tight and that wear like they were custom made for you. Every wear-line and fade-line becomes part of the essence of the garment.

Now, I can already hear the Gore-Tex fans out there protesting that their garments are lighter, more breathable and more waterproof than my BBB...and everyone has a right to their own opinion. And I have nothing at all against the lovely folks who make and use Gore-Tex, either...but this is about the BBB.

In the interest of full-disclosure, I did once stray from the waxed cotton path over to the synthetic textile path, but I was young and silly, then. Many years ago I'd purchased a parka made of the above-mentioned textile from a well-known Maine retailer and it seemed fine, certainly it was lighter-weight than my BBB. So along comes a very rainy and sloppy day and the boyfriend decided we should go to the Yankees game--it was April, I think. So because it wasn't all that cool outside, and the parka was a little longer in length, I wore it to the game rather than the BBB. BIG MISTAKE. First off, it wasn't all that waterproof by the end of the afternoon and I was soaked to the skin--and cold. So cold and wet, it turns out, that the only thing that could revive me and render me conscious again was a Double Steak dinner for two (with cottage fries, creamed spinach and a Grey Goose martini) at the original Palm restaurant in NYC. Shortly after, the parka was sent back to the famed Maine retailer and that was the end of my dalliance with non-waxed-cotton outerwear. The BBB was never to be doubted or underestimated again. From October to April, the coat most likely to get the call is the BBB.

I'd imagine that every other Barbour lover out there also has their favorite "model" if you will, but I have to say I'm rather partial to the Beaufort. It's just the right length and has loads of pockets...even hand-warmer pockets lined with soft, cozy moleskin. Delightful. And while I never thought I'd actually use the "game pocket" that runs all the way across the back of the coat, it has proven to be a great place for tucking newspapers or magazines on rainy, slushy days. I'm not sure which model HRH Queen Elizabeth prefers, but it looked like a Beaufort (with brogues and an Hermes scarf) in the movie, The Queen. Brilliant.

Now, obviously I'm not the only one who feels like this. In fact, it was the piece in The Times of London about how Barbour is "back" that got me thinking about my BBB. Here's a link to the full piece "Big, battered and the colour of gunk, the Barbour wax jacket is back. How one heritage brand was reinvented without any brand strategists and without really trying." (I'd argue it never went anywhere, but I won't quibble with the Times.)

From strolling past the Opera Paris to cheering on my Chelsea Blues in London, and from Vienna, Austria to Rochester, Minnesota, the BBB has been part of many of my great memories of these past 10 years, and will be for many years to come.

OH...And in other quick news, I wanted to thank Troy Tinker from the World Famous Lipizzaner show (he's the narrator/emcee) for the kind information he posted as a comment to my Dancing Stallions post. He notes that the Spanish Riding School will be doing 5 performances on the East Coast in 2010, and that there will be links on their website when the dates and venues are announced, so stay tuned! Here's their website again www.lipizzaner.com and as I said, if the show comes to a town near you, do plan to attend. You won't be sorry.

To Thine Own Self Be True

I was watching Fox's Glee earlier tonight and was reminded of how much we all crave acceptance. (The show, by the way, is okay. However, I think the pregnancy faking wife and the pregnant "abstinent" cheerleader story lines are kind of tired, in my opinion, and there was a point I was kind of waiting/hoping for Kanye West to show up during the many All the Single Ladies dance sequences.) Whether it's applying for jobs, meeting new 'networking contacts' (okay, that phrase alone gives me hives) or just fitting in, we all crave a level of acceptance. Even the people who are right now shaking their head saying "everyone else maybe, but not me..." want some level of acceptance and validation.

I guess what made me think of this was the young gay character on the show...he lied to his father and said he was working out and trying out to be the kicker on the football team. The football lie came from one of his fellow Glee-Clubbers and it was all an effort to impress and garner acceptance from his football loving straight father. At any rate, he turns out to be a real boon to the team and a good kicker as well. It all ends happily, father accepts gay son and son joyfully has pleased his father. (Sorry if it sounds cynical...but I'm summarizing here!)

This not-untried story line started me thinking about the lengths so many of us go to in the name of acceptance. This young man, a true 'glee-clubbing fabulous friend of Dorothy' went as far as trying out for the football team to carry out a ruse and in doing so gain his father's love/acceptance. In our every day lives, we often have to make sacrifices to fit in. Whether it's not mentioning the glaring error a colleague made or not owning your life and it's truths...we all do it. It can be covering your light with the proverbial basket so as not to outshine someone, or just living an untrue existence.

In pressure filled situations it is so easy to succumb to wanting to say or do what is expected. When someone asks why you're not married (this one is my particular favorite) it's so easy to give stock answers. The truth is for me that it's not important to me. It doesn't define the relationship my boyfriend and I have. We love each other and don't feel the need to be married. But given a social situation it's often simpler to comment on commitment issues, timing, or location. The few times I've actually said what I felt and what I wanted I was greeted with blank stares and polite smiles. (Seriously, the comment running through my head was more like: "Really, this is what interests you about me? Not what I'm doing in NY or what book I'm working on? This is your burning curiosity? As if...")

I'm an only child with great need for space and ME time--could that sound more selfish?? But in all honesty I'm not terribly outgoing or gregarious--I'm generally more at home being the scribbling observer. Don't get me wrong--I love being with my boyfriend, but don't need or want him here all the time. Not pretty, perhaps, but the truth. I'm fine with me and while I love our "US" time, we're both just fine doing what we need to do. I'm not sure my parents always understand this, but they are supportive and seem to have accepted that their daughter doesn't do things the conventional way. They'd likely tell you that I never have and while they'd probably prefer it was otherwise, they deal with my eccentricities pretty well, all things considered. Thanks for that, Mom and Dad.

As you've gleaned from my previous posts, I spent a lot of time in a job that I should have left. Had I really been faithful to my ideals and true to myself, I'd have looked after my interests much more closely. I wasn't my own best advocate and I'll always regret that. I look back at so many times where I should have said something or done something but I didn't because I was afraid of how it would look. Honestly, I roll my eyes just thinking about me then!

So what's the right answer? Tell people what they want to hear or announce your truth to the discomfort of others? Both, neither...you decide. I've begun to believe that our own personal truths have to become MORE self-evident. It's not worth it to try to tailor your life or feelings to someone else's agenda. Understand, I'm not saying anyone should just act out every thought or emotion--it's just fine to have unexpressed thoughts and emotions. I'm just saying that whenever possible--meaning whenever we don't damage or impinge upon the truth or life of another--we should be true to who we are, what we need to survive. (And by the way, we all have VERY different needs. What is okay for me won't fill your bill.)

I was a weird kid who took Latin and read the New Yorker and Town & Country...in a smallish town in Minnesota. I fell in love with medieval literature and studied the cathedral architecture of Europe. I'm not "normal." My friends and family love me for/in spite of all this. They know I love my cocktails and my odd little historical facts, and that I'm as happy in an 18th century French Chateau as I am at the beach...with books at both places, of course.

My mini-manifesto, with apologies to Jerry McGuire, is this:
1. I love writing, whether it's about horses, clothes, silly situations I get myself into or whatever else might cross my mind.
2. I need my alone time and am perfectly okay by myself.
3. I love going to the movies and watching some bad TV.
4. I think books are both transformative and transportive--they can change your life.
5. I love French table wine, good cheese and crisp, tart apples.
6. The only champagne I'm at all interested in is made by The Widow Clicquot, in a manner of speaking.
7. I admire Europeans for their slowness in eating and drinking and spending time with friends. I love Americans for their unbridled confidence and sense of possibility.
8. Ideas are among the most necessary and important things we have as a people.
9. Negative energy can kill almost anything.
10. Gin martinis, with extra olives, are one of the great bar-tending achievements of all time.
11. I will always want to know more.
12. There will never be enough time on horseback.
13. A part of me is always in France...my mind, my heart, my soul.
14. A part of me is always in Minnesota with my family and old friends.
15. A part of me cares what people who read this will think...a part of me doesn't.
16. I made it in NYC, for many years...you know how the song goes. I still think I can make it anywhere.
17. No time spent with horses is wasted time.
18. No time spent on the beach is wasted time.
19. No time spent on the NYT Sunday crossword is wasted time.
20. The 10 most important two-letter words: If it is to be, it is up to me.

There's other stuff of course, but hey, you should always leave an audience wanting more.

So be yourself...I'm going to. Want what you want, and ask for it. Need what you need, and ask for it. I'm not good at that part of it, but I'm getting better. I aspire to a wardrobe where I love everything in it. I aspire to be a good, solid rider. I want to work and make a difference, somewhere yet to be determined, I guess. I've had two amazing careers, one in museums and one in publishing and I'm not anywhere near done yet. There are things I still have to share with the world! (Or at least the two or three folks who read my ramblings regularly.)

I'll be wearing my Hermes scarves a bit jauntier this fall, and my lipstick a little darker. My nails are going to be matte in some cases and will likely be navy, gun metal gray or black. It's time for corduroys, suede, and Barbours. *Okay, waxed cotton is seasonless, but you get the idea*

On that note, go forth and enjoy yourself...I plan to have an exceptional autumn!