Last week I went shopping for a jacket. I've been riding around on my bike with what used to be a very nice lightweight jacket with a hood; perfect for early fall temperatures and great for staying relatively dry when it rains, no umbrella required. The temperatures are starting to drop now, and the jacket won't be warm enough much longer. I have a warm winter coat, but that is still sitting in the car that we still do not have here, and it doesn't have a hood, either (the jacket, not the car). In fact, none of the outerwear I own, with the exception of my lightweight jacket, has a hood. As a general rule, I am not so big on hoods. But riding a bike in this country necessitates some form of head covering, and a hood strikes me as the most fail-proof option. So I donned my just-barely-still-warm-enough jacket, got on my bike, and rode into the retail-dense area of downtown Breda.
I knew what I was looking for in a jacket. I wanted an at least moderately well-made hooded jacket that would keep me sufficiently warm and dry on a bike. What I did NOT want in a jacket was: anything that would make me look like the Michelin Tire Man (I have enough padding of my own, thank you); anything that had the level of shine you'd expect from at least three layers of shellac; anything sporting a faux-fur-lined hood; anything particularly purple; or anything costing upwards of 200 (euros, not pesos). Go ahead, scoff at my unrealistic expectations if you will.
While hunting this mythical beast I was exposed not only to many poorly-made and overpriced jackets; I was visually assaulted by an astonishing quantity of poor-quality, unattractive, and overpriced clothing. I have to wonder: how do so many people spend so much money on so much really bad clothing? I'm sure I will return to this theme once I've had more time to observe and analyze the clothing customs of the Dutch in their natural habitat. But for now, back to the jacket.
The only jackets that fit well and looked good on me didn't have hoods. I considered caving in and buying a jacket without a hood, using what my mother-in-law refers to an "anti-sex" to keep my head dry instead. An "anti-sex" is one of those little transparent plastic rain bonnets you tie under your chin. I discarded the idea because, among other reasons, I'd probably lose it, or forget to bring it, or have to stuff the wet thing into a pocket or purse, thereby getting the pocket or purse (and everything in it) all wet. Besides, if the weather is perfectly nice and then suddenly turns gray and starts raining (a frequent weather pattern here), it's a little awkward, to say the least, to find the thing and put it on while biking without causing a major accident. Plus, there's a reason she calls it an anti-sex.
In the very first store I walked into, the very first snap on the very first jacket I even touched came flying off. Immediately and dramatically. The zipper on another jacket immediately came apart the wrong way - you know how they sometimes unzip from the bottom after you've zipped them up? That. I had to pull the jacket over my head to get it off. So much for well-made. Okay, I thought, so I started at the bottom of the department store chains; why not have a look at the other stores?
Four (4) hours later, out of sheer stubbornness and determination, I was the owner of a new hooded non-purple, non-Michelin, non-shiny, non-fur lined jacket from......the bottom of the department store chains. But it doesn't have snaps.
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