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The kind of beauty you cannot possess (unless you’re an XXL)

Oh dear, oh dear. I first saw this belter from Tender when it dropped at The Bureau a week or so ago. And I was going to spotlight it then, but I got a cold. So I coughed and wheezed. Then moaned and whined. And spent most of my waking hours wondering if a couple of Marlboros with my coffee might actually help matters. What I didn’t do was write anything about this jacket. And now look, they’ve only gone and sold all but the XXL.

It’s not so much an oversight on my behalf as simple babyman weakness. As a documenter of global men’s apparel I’m typically enthusiastic and reasonably productive. Add a chesty rasp and a throat-full of catarrh however and I’m fucked. Just a shivering homunculus, half-in, half-out of the duvet, swigging Covonia from the bottle, whimpering before the tattling of the Loose Women. Nothing unusual about a cold. Although, like many men, I choose to believe I have it worse than most.

None of which address this garment, the availability of which is probably decreasing the more time you waste reading this blabber. It’s a blazer, but not, but sort of. It’s in viridian (bluey/green) and black, with copper buttons and a couple of pockets you access through side openings. Mohair cotton mix is the fabric and you’ll notice it’s been scattered with beautiful copper rivets.

It goes without saying I want it. I imagine you do too. But clearly, now, with the limitations in size, it’s not to be. Thwarted by a cold that would topple Zeus himself, I have missed my moment. Now I can only look upon this superb garment and feel the kind of aching loss that comes with never truly owning. I need another fistful of tissue. But is it to blow my nose, or dab away a tear?

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