Do You Need a Chore Coat?

I never thought I’d be writing an ode to a jacket. Then again, I never thought I’d negotiate a bulk deal on chore coats from Alex Mill for my own team at the Culinistas. And yet, here we are — well, here I am, watching spring fashion shows featuring the skinny jeans I’ve just recently built the courage to clear out of my closet and ship off to the Ladies Village Improvement Society to make room for . . . more chore coats. Maybe you’ve got one, too. Or you’ve seen a guy wearing one at the gallery opening you attended last night and thought, ‘I need one.” Or maybe it was a peppy young artist at S&S ordering a cortado in front of you. You know she’s going to have a great day. Her phone will be in a pocket but she won’t even look at it much; phone so secure she becomes secure herself.

I don’t have time to google the history of the chore coat because I am so busy doing chores in my coat but I hazard this guess: Blue is French and the coats are blue, so the coats are French. Did you know that in Amagansett until two summers ago there was not only a store that dedicated to all things blue and white but also a store dedicated to all things white and blue? Now we are down to just one, but it’s plainly obvious that we were meant to be the wearers of these coats.

Chore coats are not actually all blue. I know this because my favorite store in the whole world is Orient Linen Co. on the North Fork, where a mother/daughter duo sources vintage (vintage!) chore coats. Ralph Lauren! Toile! Various stripes or dare I say ticking?! (I do not know for certain because I am busy with chores.) I think I might need a $200 original. I need to be tied to the lineage in order to get in the spirit and fully embody a woman who needs to elegantly but efficiently go to the post office. I need to open my closet and see a whisper of history on a hanger.

Speaking of history, I know that South Fork history is all about art so we need the bleu de travail (I had one second between chores to google the French!). These are the jackets of artistes. And even though he isn’t French, I think I read that Jackson Pollock basically invented the coat, or at least put it on the map, and he had a house out here. These coats are meaningful artifacts to us! Each chore coat has lived a life or is about to live a life, or is at least about to look good sort of glazing over a Hamptons life.

I remember vintage shopping in Tokyo with an artist friend from the East End when he discovered an absolutely one-of-a-kind, definitely-from-the-1950s, French, blue chore coat. I mean, classic to the point of costume. A blue-washed treasure. Broken in like it knew every chore that ever needed doing. It was the cherry of the trip. Not more than a few months later, he had an opening at Clinton Academy. Not a group show. Authenticity with pockets, I say.

The truth is, I ordered chore coats for my staff at the Culinistas because they work. We do have things to carry: Sharpies, Maldon Sea Salt, sumac, Advil.  None of that fits in a Y2K silhouette. In a season resurrecting shimmering slinky dresses and diaphanous materials, has the chore coat’s moment come to an end? Maybe. But let’s be honest: you look great in it.