The Green Coat

Nikolai Gogol has this beautiful short story called ‘The Overcoat.’ I read it in University. I still remember it. That’s the thing about the Russians: they write stories that stick to your ribs.

Basically it’s the story of a poor government clerk—Akaky—whose threadbare coat is the butt of his colleagues’ jokes. Finally exasperated, he decides to get the coat repaired. The tailor declares the coat irreparable, and tells Akaky he must buy a new coat.

The cost of a new overcoat is beyond Akaky's meagre salary, so he forces himself to live within a strict budget to save enough money to buy the new overcoat. Finally, with an unexpectedly large holiday salary bonus, Akaky has saved enough money to buy a new overcoat!

His boss decides to host a party honouring the new overcoat. Akaky goes home from the party, far later than he normally would. En route home, two ruffians confront him, take his coat, kick him down, and leave him unconscious in the snow.

God Bless the Russians and their feel-good stories.

Feeling particularly down and out, I made the mistake of going to the mall the other day. I have gained weight, none of my clothes fit and I am so poor that it would not be out of the question for me to press my nose up against a store-front window and beg, “Please sir, can I ‘ave some more?’

It’s masochistic, going shopping without money, but I did it anyway, happy for the mindless distraction. As I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, I came across the most ravishing Spring Coat. It was green. It made me look like a million bucks. I had no intention of buying it, but I also couldn’t bring myself to take it off. It looked that good. I walked around the store, unable to part with it. In a flourish, I bought it and took it home and slept with it nestled beneath my chin.

Of course, I had to take it back.

I know it’s just a coat, but it made me feel good. I know it’s just a coat, but I feel like I have been working hard and I deserve it. I know it’s just a coat, but my identity and self-worth are inextricably linked with the size of my body and the size of my wallet.

I know it’s just a coat, but returning it felt like I was rejecting and denying a part of myself.

The retail ruffians took my coat, kicked me down and left me unconscious in the store.

I cried the whole way home.