Artist's rendering of proposed travel coat (borrowed pen on cocktail napkin).

Travel is usually considered broadening, but I wonder if it also reins one’s imagination in, creating focus where before was only whimsy. I write from an airport lounge, the morning after packing, and at least an hour before that cart rumbles down the aisle bearing a Bloody Mary. I am preoccupied with clothes for travel; not the stuff neatly stored in a (hopefully) single carry-on, but the ones intended for the journey itself. At the moment I have on ready-wear chinos and a navy merino cardigan over a shirt, a comfortable if somewhat pajama-like ensemble. But “travel cardigan” hardly seems like a sound solution for racing between planes and trains. No—a travel odd coat is what’s needed.

Traveling clothes is a romantic genre full of tweed capes, reversible balmacaans and hidden buttons. Historically, the principle was simple: more durable, less precious clothes should be worn that still look well enough to appear in public. Features, such as convertible collars that could effectively be worn up, might afford some additional comfort in a drafty club car, but I suspect had as much to do with novelty as necessity. Tweed suits were standard; so were wardrobe trunks and porters and bar cars captained by experienced barmen—irrelevant, the lot of it.

Porter & Harding's Glorious Twelfth book is packed with faux tweeds made of high-twist worsted wool in busy little patterns--perfect for camouflaging the occasional mishap. — Porter & Harding's *Glorious Twelfth* book is packed with faux tweeds made of high-twist worsted wool in busy little patterns--perfect for camouflaging the occasional mishap.

Today’s travel garments reflect the current environment, one that, if we believe Agatha Christie, has significantly decreased in elegance. Comfort, convenience and security are the main objectives, which wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t translate into oversized clothes made of nylon embellished with more zippers, latches and buckles than a standard flak jacket. Designers view traveling as battle, and the ready-wear market for this specialized type of clothing is packed with technical garments.

I think a good travel coat should securely contain passports, boarding passes, device(s) and whatever else is needed, but not at the expense of style, and, more to the point, ordinariness. This might mean nothing more exciting than a subtle navy check with patch-and-button-flap pockets, perhaps one or two additional interior pockets, and a durable lining. I don’t mean the coat should be uninteresting; I just want to be able to wear it outside of the context of travel without even a single Inspector Gadget reference.

Proposed Guidelines for Travel Coat:

Cloth must not be precious

Cloth must be durable and somewhat breathable

Color should be dark, or busy enough to disguise the minor calamity

Pockets must be sturdy rather than capacious, and might benefit from having a button closure

Lining is necessary so the coat won’t grip trousers while you leg-it to another terminal

Coat should be useful upon arrival at destination