So it seems the big freeze we're having to endure, is going absolutely nowhere anytime soon and is clearly content with hanging around like a seriously bad smell. As it continues to make us lose the sensation in every single one of our toes and make it ten times more difficult to even hold onto that Starbucks coffee we've bought in attempt warm up, it is the trusty winter coat that is pulled out from the back of the wardrobe every year to save us all from freezing into an ice sculpture mid walk to work. Unless you're me that is, who is still walking around in my denim jacket from the summer, a measly looking hoody with missing drawstrings and a thermal vest that my grandma swears by. Attractive.
It seems the more sensible folk of London, unlike myself, have genuinely listened to their mums incessant nags of "ooooh now you, i want you to wrap up warm today or you'll catch your death" and are now basking in the benefits and looking great in their fleece lined parkas and fur collared trench coats. But what does make me laugh... is the London tourist's choice of outerwear.
The puffa jacket. With accompanying stretchy belt.
What IS this coat?! Alongside armfuls of Primark bags, Madame Tussauds and M&M World goody bags, tourists can be spotted a mile off in these beauties. Made for man, woman, child and great grandad, they seem to be the universal coat for facing the below zero temperatures currently hitting the Big Smoke. In my opinion, they are pretty darn hideous and for me, immediately draw up images of Eastenders' famous effing and blinding favourite Bianca, stomping through Albert Square in her rather fetching silver number that she's had for yonks. Could this really be where the inspiration to sport this disaster has stemmed from? The matching belt does nothing for the look either and merely draws attention to the fact that both the bottom and top half of the jacket look like a bunch of squashed tyres that are on the cusp of exploding.
Adding to this pretty strong, or shall I sat 'fierce' look, is the choice of headwear. I have recently noticed the uprising in the animal head hat, bought straight from one of the many tacky tourist stands peppering the streets. You know the ones, the bright orange tiger or Pokemon heads with knee length side burn equivalents, that tourists genuinely think make them look like the coolest cats in town. I mean, for kids I'd let it go...at a push, but grown adults trapsing up and down Oxford Street in themed zoo animal head gear is just a no-no.
So at the weekend, I finally decided to spend the last of my wage on a new winter coat, realising that making the investment is worth much more than spending the day channeling one of those annoying wind up chattering teeth toys. Or the Michelin man for that matter.
Words : Corinne Yaya