Rainy Friday

Yesterday morning looked wet and about to get wetter, so I threw on my western-style rain slicker before heading out the door. It's one of those garments I only ever wear when it's both rainy and not too warm, as it generates quite a bit of heat in and of itself - particularly in a crowded Tube carriage.



Its distinctive slickness also makes me feel faintly self-conscious, although not necessarily in a bad way. A couple of years ago, I arrived at work wearing it over a suit and a female colleague exclaimed, "ooh, rubber!" to the entire office. I was mildly irritated with her at the time but just smirked and said, "well, everybody needs a hobby". I'm pretty sure my colleagues have noticed I own a fair collection of leather coats and jackets but no-one ever mentions it.

My journey home was particularly rainswept, a downpour getting into its stride just as I reached the station. I felt vaguely smug getting onto the train with water running off me but warm and dry inside.

One of the interesting things about publicly wearing something with a hint (or more than a hint) of fetish is observing who notices and who doesn't. My theory is that many people register a (conscious or unconscious) attraction to certain fabrics and types of garment, and wearing a certain item is like projecting a signal on a semi-hidden wavelength. Some coats and jackets definitely attract more comments and queries than others.