When my cousin Julie and I were in Europe back in college, we each had a coat. I bought mine at home before I left Florida, and the poor thing was pretty but just wasn't a match against the German winter. Julie, on the other hand, bought hers in France--a glorious men's wool overcoat, made in England and toasty warm. When the course of our lives led Julie to south Florida and me to chillier climates, we swapped coats. I am always grateful for its stylish warmth (after all these years, I guess it's "vintage"), and I make it a point to tell Julie where her coat has been. (She was especially honored recently to realize that her coat had been photographed with the
Naked Cowboy in Times Square.)
When I think of Julie and the coat, I always think of one particular photo. I took this of her outside a hotel in Amsterdam:
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When Fred and I (and the coat) went to NYC last month, I had to get my own lion picture:
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That coat has a lot of miles on it!
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