A Puffer Coat Christmas

It was early September, sometime around the mid-2000s. I had ventured up further north than I ever had been, to New York City, for a visit with my dear college friend, Abby. She had recently moved to be with her then boyfriend, now husband, as he started his illustrious professional football career. I was in my mid-twenties and was thrilled to be going to the bustling city for the first time in my life- to see all the things I had only been able to look at through my television and in magazines.

              Lady Liberty welcomed me with her out stretched arm as I flew over the Hudson. Touch down. I could feel the energy buzzing from the city. Abby had told me to be on the lookout for a driver named Fred that would be picking me up. I was expecting a neatly dressed man, holding a sign with my name just like I saw in the movies. He even had a hat on in my imagination.  As I wheeled my luggage to the curb, a man speaking very broken English zipped up next to me in an unmarked car and told me to get in, like he had been waiting on me for hours.

              “You must be Fred!” I exclaimed in my thick and drawn out Mississippi accent, pronouncing his name with two syllables. (Fray-ed)

              “No Fred! Bags in trunk. Where are you going?” My new friend was very direct.

              Confused, I asked the presumable Fred to give me a second while I called my friend for her address. He was more than annoyed.

              “Abby, I think Fred is here. He’s in a small sedan- doesn’t speak a lot of English.”

              “Oh Lord. That’s not Fred. That’s a gypsy cab.”

              “Wait, what’s a gypsy cab?”

              “Stay right where you are. I’m calling Fred. He’ll know you when he sees you. Trust me.”

              I followed my friend’s orders, shooed away the gypsy cab as she instructed, and waited patiently for my knight in shining Fred to swoop me up and take me to my castle. Fred eventually came and brought me safely to my friend’s apartment. After hugs and celebratory cocktails, our two very southern girl selves decided to walk around the quaint and newly popular Hoboken, New Jersey. With the New York City skyline picturesquely behind us, we meandered to a local restaurant for dinner that would be complete with a Snoboken for dessert- a delectable hot fudge Sundae with all kinds of trimmings I still dream about to this day.

              As the wind whipped up, I looked at my friend with a very concerned face. “It’s chilly up here. And it’s only September!”

              “Oh, it will get a lot colder. Did you bring a heavy jacket?”

              “Heavy jacket? I’m from Mississippi, remember? Only light, fashionable jackets for this girl.”

              My friend stopped me in my tracks, as if she were about to tell me the most stunning news she had ever heard. “You will never believe what the women wear up here.”

              “Whaaaat?” I asked in a three syllable, one word question. I couldn’t wait for the inside scoop. Was it Chanel? Balenciaga? Prada? I rattled off all the designers in my head I had only heard and read about.

              “All the women up here wear these long puffer coats. And I’m talking long down to the ankles, not to the knees.”

              I was horrified. “Not long puffer coats.”

              “Yes! And what’s worse- the coats are black. No color.”

              “What?” I took it all in. New York was supposed to be high fashion. This did not make sense to my small town mind. “Do they walk around looking like garbage bags in those long puffer coats?” I asked my friend.

              “Yes. What am I going to do?”

              “Surely you won’t wear one,” I looked aghast at my friend. I believe I even placed a hand over my chest, near my heart.

              Abby looked at me with her downtrodden face and replied, “I think I’m going to have to get one. All the women say it’s an absolute must if I want to survive the winters up here.”

              I couldn’t believe it. My ever so beautiful friend who was always so fashion forward and on trend was planning to sacrifice herself to the fashion gods in order to stay warm. She had worked a few days a week in college at a beautiful upscale boutique selling the clothes I could only wish to afford, and she always knew what was in style. Even as we spoke, she was an assistant to a successful fashion designer in the heart of the city. Surely that designer could whip something up for my friend? I was concerned, but only responded with a simple, “I am so sorry,” as if we were grieving the end of her style options.

              We made it through the devastating puffer jacket crisis conversation and continued on. The weekend whipped by faster than a toupee in a hurricane, mostly due to all the fun we were having. I eventually said my goodbyes and until next times to my dear friend and made my way back down to Nashville, where I had recently moved.

              The air turned cooler down South as the fall trotted on. I would often find myself wondering if Abby was somewhere wrapped up in one of those long black puffer coats. I pictured her beautiful white blonde hair pulled back from the static causing collar and felt for her as she passed those glamorous New York City window mannequins donned with the latest styles from the most talented designers. Maybe she belted it with something to help the boxy look and show her tiny waist? One could only hope.

               Christmas eventually rolled around. I had been dating a local Nashvillian from a lovely family who had invited me over to celebrate a few days prior to the holiday. I happily obliged and picked out the perfect presents for each family member, hoping they would see the careful consideration I gave.

              We started with a delicious dinner served on beautiful blue and white china. We filled our bellies with beef tenderloin brushed with a homemade horseradish sauce, squash soufflé, asparagus wrapped in bacon, and fluffy dinner rolls. After a dessert of pot de crème served from the most delightful demitasse glasses, it was finally present time.

              I watched with eager anticipation as my boyfriend’s family members opened each of their gifts. We were still in the honeymoon phase so it meant a lot to me how they felt about the gifts. Then, my boyfriend’s mother handed me a large present. “I picked this just for you,” she said as she smiled.

              I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to see what the mother of the man I had been seriously dating was going to give me. I gently tore the paper, trying not to seem too excited. I opened the large box and peeled away the tissue to find my prize. I couldn’t believe it. I was in stunned disbelief. It was a long black puffer coat. And she hadn’t even known about my conversation with my friend.  

              I was speechless. What did this mean? My thoughts immediately went to Abby. Then I quickly remembered my boyfriend’s mother was, in fact, raised in New Jersey, a hop-skip-and- a-jump- away from Manhattan.  Maybe it was just the norm where she was from? I raised my eyes and looked at the smiling woman, so genuinely pleased with herself. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.” No truer words had ever been uttered.

              She went on to tell me that she had noticed I didn’t have a good winter coat and thought I would need one as Nashville got colder than most areas of Mississippi. She explained how the cold was a “wetter” cold, and the key to the jacket was that it was long and would keep my whole body warm. I looked around as the family members nodded their heads in agreement. I thought quietly to myself, in between long sips of red wine. Maybe I will just wear it when I come over here to the house? She’ll never know if I don’t wear it. I thought of all my beautiful and fashionable light winter coats in my closet at home. I’d never trade them for the black garbage bag of a present I was looking at, even if it came from the most thoughtful consideration.

              We closed out the night, and I thanked my hostess for the lovely evening. I didn’t say much to my boyfriend about the coat and simply tucked it away in the closet. Christmas passed and with January came a snow the likes of which I had never seen. Being in healthcare, it was my duty to report to work no matter what natural disaster struck, so I dug through my closet to find my warmest clothes to bundle up in. And there it was. Deep in the back of my closet, I rediscovered my long black puffer coat. I weighed my options for warmth and begrudgingly decided to try the garbage bag on. To my fashion forward dismay, it was warm. And it was the warmest thing I had ever put on my body.

              Fast forward fourteen years, I am now married to that boyfriend, and my favorite coat is none other than my trusty long, black puffer. The second the temperature dips below fifty, it is a mainstay in my daily wardrobe. I never would have survived the winters if my very thoughtful New Jersey mother-in- law had not gotten her Mississippi daughter-in-law a long puffer coat for Christmas.

              I’ve been through a few puffer coats by now. I give them away for gifts, as suggestions for anyone moving further north, or for those simply looking for a warmer coat. My favorite is a simple, classic Land’s End puffer. LL Bean has a great option as well. They may not be fashion forward, but damn they are warm. So, if you are looking for any Christmas gift ideas, might I suggest a long, black puffer coat?

This Lands’ End option is perfect. They even come in an array of colors! To shop visit the website here.

For a pricier yet longer option, LL Bean is your spot. This particular puffer has even been referred to as the ultimate fire pit coat. Get yours here.

The best bang for your buck is at Target. There are plenty of inexpensive puffer coat options here.

Last but not least- the SNOBOKEN dessert is the best around. It is a specialty found at Dino & Harry’s Steakhouse in Hoboken, New Jersey. If you’re ever around that way, pop in and grab one. You won’t be disappointed. And don’t forget to tell them…Go Giants!

Photo cred: Hoboken Girl