A note from Leya
At 67, my granddaughter asked me why every jacket I own is beige
I don't usually write these, and I nearly didn't. But I've found myself saying the same thing to so many women lately that it seemed easier to write it down properly.
My granddaughter was staying for half term, and she was helping me find my keys in the hall. She stood in front of the coat hooks for a moment, looked at the row of them, and said, Nan, why are all your jackets the same? A beige anorak, a beige mac and a beige quilted thing I'd bought because it was sensible. She wasn't being unkind. She genuinely wanted to know.
I didn't have an answer, and that bothered me more than the question did. Nobody chooses to disappear into beige. It happens because the shops give us two sorts of jacket. There are the sensible ones, which keep the rain off and make sure nobody looks twice. And there are the ones with a bit of character, which are cut for someone forty years younger and make you worry you're trying too hard. Sensible or interesting. At our age, we're quietly expected to pick the first.
You don't stop having a bit of personality at our age. You just stop being offered clothes that have any.
Then she found one on her phone
She'd been scrolling on the sofa and held the screen out to me. A navy jacket with camel panels and a little row of metal studs across the chest. My first thought was that I'd look like I was off to a rodeo. Then I looked again, and the studs were small and neat, only across the top, and the whole thing looked smart rather than silly.
It's the Sadie jacket from Susan and Kate London, a British label started by two sisters. The body is a deep navy, the camel panels give it shape, and the studs add just enough to make it interesting without turning it into a costume. There's a hood with a drawstring, a zip right the way up and two flap pockets on the front. I ordered it that evening, mostly to prove my granddaughter wrong.
What happened at the coffee morning
The first proper outing was the Thursday coffee morning at the church hall. Two women asked me where it was from before I'd taken my first sip. The third was Margaret from the book club, who has never once commented on anything I've worn in eleven years. She looked me up and down and said, Leya, I think that's the first time I've seen you in a colour.
It has barely been on its hook since. Round the field with the labrador in the morning, the market on Saturday, lunch with my sister on Sunday. It looks right in all three places, and I feel more like myself in it than I have in any jacket for years.
Three things worth knowing
One. The studs are subtler than you'd think. They sit in a neat line across the chest and nowhere else. From across a room they read as a detail, not a statement, which is exactly what I wanted.
Two. It's practical where it counts. The hood pulls in with a drawstring when the drizzle starts, the zip goes right up to the chin, and the flap pockets hold keys, phone and dog treats without anything falling out.
Three. It goes both ways. Over jeans and a plain top on a Saturday, it looks relaxed. Over a knit and good trousers for lunch, it looks like I made an effort. The snap cuffs mean I can push the sleeves up or keep them neat, depending on the day.
About the price
I'll be honest, the price is usually the first thing people ask about.
The Sadie is £39.95. It was £80.00.
My first thought was that there had to be a catch, because I've paid more than that for beige anoraks that nobody ever noticed. There isn't one that I've found. Susan and Kate London sell directly, with no shop in the middle taking a cut, and they have a sale on at the moment. Delivery is free, and I checked before ordering that I could send it back within 30 days if the size was wrong.
I read the reviews first, the way I imagine you're doing now. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not a suspiciously perfect five, which if anything made me trust it more. Then I ordered a second one for my sister's birthday. She rang me the day it arrived to say she'd already worn it twice.
What I'd tell you if we were friends
If you and I were sat in the garden with a pot of tea and you asked me, this is what I'd say.
Go and look at the hooks in your hall. If every jacket on them is beige, not because you love beige but because it felt like the safe choice, it's worth ten minutes of your evening to have a look. Not because a jacket will change your life. It won't. But being noticed for the right reasons is a small thing I'd quietly given up on, and I'd rather you didn't give up on it too.
The sale is on at the moment, and the middle sizes are always the first to go.
The beige anorak is still on its hook. It just doesn't get taken down much any more.
Leya
Sadie | Western-Inspired Jacket
£80.00 £39.95
- Navy with contrasting camel panels
- Subtle metal studs across the chest
- Adjustable drawstring hood and full front zip
- Two flap pockets and snap-button cuffs
- Navy & camel · UK 6 to 22
- Free UK delivery
Sale — while sizes last.
Leya Whitmore is 67 and lives in Guildford with a labrador. She is not a fashion writer.
Susan and Kate London · Free UK delivery · 30 day returns