Trench Season + Thoughts on Spring Jackets

“The earth laughs in flowers.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

That magical time of year when buds start popping open, birds are chirping out your window, and there’s still a chill in the air just sharp enough to give you goosebumps. But if you’re like me and you refuse to put back on your winter coat, enter the spring jacket, which will save the day.

More designed for aesthetic than functionality, the spring jacket’s only true downfall is that its shelf life is sadly short-lived. In the Northeast particularly, there's a brief, fleeting window, usually occurring at the end of March through April, where you'll pull these spring jackets out of the depths of your closet to cover you from an early morning chill or a brisk late afternoon when the sun begins to slip away. Light enough to show off a spring dress underneath and just the right weight to help you dash through April showers. And as my husband will confirm, with a bit of an eye roll, I’ve been known to collect spring jackets, especially favoring printed and vintage leather trench coats of late.

My love affair with trenches began with in 2007 when my mother handed down to me a smart looking red trench, the color of ripe tomatoes and accented with brass gold buttons. It was hers from the 70s that she had custom made in Hong Kong righty before she immigrated to America. Living in Miami, Florida though, she never had the chance to wear the coat so it was preserved in mint condition for almost 40 years before she found it buried in her closet and then gave to me. (You can read more about this treasured heirloom trench coat over here.)

With the fickleness of spring weather, and for a day of exploring beautiful Grounds for Sculpture just after the rain cleared, I can’t say I minded too much reaching for this toile print trench. I have to say, I think my other spring jackets don’t mind being in her company, wouldn’t you agree?

Tell me, do you live where there are seasons, and do you have a favorite spring jacket?

Photos taken by my 9-year-old at Grounds for Sculpture in Hamilton, New Jersey.