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Famous Blue Raincoat
Inspired by the songs of Leonard Cohen
Natalie Nessus
www.cafeboudoir.com
Part 1: Sisters of Mercy
Oh the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone.
They were waiting for me when I thought that I just can't go on
I purchased the blue raincoat in 1986 from the Camden markets as a celebration when I finally finished fashion school. The coat was of soft leather, dyed navy blue and had those wonderful marks and creases that demonstrated its age. I guessed it was from the sixties or seventies and as I was into the retro sixties look at the time, I bought it. It was a little tight over the chest when I closed it as I do have large breasts but I was going to wear it mostly open any way. When I wore it over a black skirt, turtle neck and boots with my long blonde hair hanging loose on my shoulders, I fantasised I was Jane Asher or some terribly chic chick from the mod era with a boyfriend in the Beatles.
My boyfriend at the time sneered at it when I twirled around to show him. "It looks crummy, Marianne," Lenny said in that exaggerated south London accent of his. "It's too old, darl."
"I don't care," I said defiantly, "I love it."
Lenny had left school as soon as he could and became a mechanic, focusing on motor bikes. Now, at twenty-eight, he owned a small Ducati dealership, rode bikes all the time while dressed in his brand new red leathers and black helmet. He and his friends would take off on weekend jaunts across the channel and ride through France or Spain , leaving me behind in dreary London . I didn't like his friends much, all lads who swilled lager and whistling at girls while ogling my breasts, so I didn't care.
However, I would have liked to have gone to Paris with Lenny and enjoyed a romantic weekend but he didn't seem interested. His only interest was quick sex and boasting to his mates. At twenty-five, I wasn't interested in becoming his chief cook and bottle-washer that he could give a quick unsatisfying poke to when he felt the urge but I didn't know how to disengage from the relationship.
I wore the raincoat to interview after interview as I tried to get a job in the fashion houses but the nicer ones politely shooed me away while the others just laughed at me. In desperation, I started looking at other jobs and ignored Lenny when he tried to get me to work at his bike shop. He was also becoming very pushy about moving in together and, I knew if I didn't get a job, I would have to give up my little flat and do exactly that.
Depressed, I trudged up the stairs to my final interview for the day at 'Cut' magazine, a fashion monthly that claimed it was on the cutting edge of the new fashion. "Nice work," Nancy said as she studied my portfolio. "How long have you been in London ?" She was dressed entirely in black, her dark hair short and spiky but she somehow managed to appear cool and elegant, especially with that refined accent.
"Three years," I said tiredly.
"You haven't lost your accent," she observed as she flicked through my designs.
"Why should I?" I flared and she smiled.
"Everyone tries to be someone else in London while pretending they've been here all their lives. You look and sound like a young woman from Liverpool ."
"I am," I sighed, slumping back while I waited for her to push me out the door into the London gloom. "I'm just me."
"Well," Nancy said slowly, "we can't pay you very much and you'll have to do a bit of everything."
"What?" I exclaimed. "You are giving me a job?"
"I have to check it with Suzanne but I think it'll be fine."
I squealed in delight, leapt up and hugged her, then embarrassed broke away. "I sorry," I rushed, "it's just that I've been looking for a long time and this is so bloody fantastic and….."
"All right, all right," Nancy smiled, interrupting me. "Calm down. When can you start?"
"Tomorrow?"
Nancy laughed and nodded. "Tomorrow is Friday. How about Monday?"
I nodded and, stupidly, I felt a tear rolling down my cheek. "Thank you," I said as I wiped my eyes.
Nancy patted me on the arm and she smiled. "Us Liverpuddlian birds have to stay together, eh?" she said in a thick accent and I gaped at her. "As I said," she in her normal cultured accent with a cheeky smile, "everyone tries to be someone else but I'm as Mersey as you, love. Now dry your eyes and go and celebrate. As I said, I'll check with Suzanne but I don't believe there will be a problem."
"Thank you so much, Nancy ," I gushed as she walked me to the door.
"See you Monday, Marianne and, by the way, just adore your raincoat."
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