I used to think loving a coat was about how it looked in the mirror, which is the kind of belief you have when you still think your life is going to be consistent enough to justify “outfit planning.”
Now I think loving a coat is about what it removes, because the best pieces in my closet are the ones that reduce decision-making, especially on mornings when I already feel slightly behind my own thoughts.
Florence has beautiful streets and very little patience for impractical shoes, and my apartment has that particular small-space logic where you can’t own ten versions of the same thing without resenting them. There is no spare closet to hide mistakes in.
So when I say I keep choosing the same coat, I don’t mean I’m attached to it as a symbol. I mean it does a job. It makes me less tired before I even leave the house.
It makes decisions for me, and I’m grateful for that in the way you’re grateful for a friend who is calm when you’re not, because you stop confusing chaos with personality.
The coat, specifically, because details are the whole point
The coat I keep choosing is a long, charcoal wool coat with a slightly oversized, straight silhouette, a soft shoulder, and a belt that can be tied or ignored depending on what kind of day it is.
It hits mid-calf on me, which means it changes the entire outline of my body in a way that feels intentional without being dramatic. It keeps me warm enough to walk along the Arno without doing that tense little shiver that makes you feel like you’re failing at winter.
It looks quietly expensive even though it wasn’t a runway purchase, because the fabric has weight and the cut is simple, and simplicity is often what reads as quality. The buttons are matte and understated, and the lapels are wide enough to frame the face without swallowing it.
The inside is lined in a dark satin that doesn’t cling, which matters more than people admit when they talk about coats. I can wear it over a chunky sweater and it still moves. I can wear it over a thin knit and it doesn’t feel like too much. It doesn’t fight the layers underneath it.
And the best detail, the one that made me buy it and keeps me loyal, is the collar. It stands up nicely without being stiff. When Florence gets that damp winter air that feels colder than the temperature suggests, I can flip the collar up and feel instantly more protected.
Why I keep choosing it, even when I own other coats
I own other coats. I have a shorter jacket that is more playful, and a lighter coat that works in early autumn, and a padded thing I wear when I’m not trying to look like myself at all. But this charcoal wool coat is the one I reach for when I don’t want to negotiate.
It goes with everything I actually wear, which is mostly black, cream, denim, and muted colors that don’t demand styling. It looks good with sneakers on days when I need comfort, and it looks good with boots on days when I want to feel slightly more put together.
It also changes how I move through the city. When I wear it, I don’t feel underdressed. I don’t feel overdressed. I feel correct. That feeling is underrated, especially when you’re the kind of person who can overthink a sweater like it’s a moral decision.
The hack: how I wear it so it always looks intentional
Here is the practical trick that makes this coat feel like it’s doing the work for me, even when I’m wearing something very simple underneath. I treat the belt like a dial, not a rule.
On days when I want to look sharper, I tie the belt at the waist, but I don’t tie it in a perfect bow. I wrap it once, knot it loosely, and let the ends hang. It creates shape without looking fussy, and it keeps the coat from feeling like a robe.
On days when I want to disappear a little, I leave it open and let it hang straight, and I roll the sleeves once so a bit of the lining shows, which adds a subtle detail that reads thoughtful without being loud.
That’s my hack, and it works because it uses the coat’s structure instead of fighting it. One piece, two moods, and no extra decisions.
What makes a coat “Julia” in the first place
If you want a coat that makes decisions for you, it has to meet a few requirements that are more practical than fashionable, because practicality is what keeps you reaching for something year after year.
The fabric needs weight, because a coat that flutters and collapses won’t hold a shape, and holding shape is what makes a simple outfit look finished.
The color needs to be forgiving, because you will wear it in the real world, and real life involves café chairs, bus seats, rainy sidewalks, and the occasional moment where you lean against a wall because you are waiting and you don’t want to stand upright anymore.
The silhouette needs to be simple and slightly roomy, because a coat that only works over one type of outfit will become a special occasion piece, and the whole point is to avoid special occasion thinking.
And the length matters, especially in a city like Florence where you walk. Mid-thigh can be fine, but a longer coat gives you warmth and presence without having to do anything else, and it makes even a basic outfit look like it has a point.
Final Thoughts
There are pieces in my wardrobe that I love for their beauty, and there are pieces I love for their usefulness, and the rare pieces are the ones that manage to be both without making a fuss about it. This coat is one of those rare pieces.
I keep choosing it because it saves my energy and it steadies my day, and I have learned that the best style choices are often the ones that free you up to think about something else.
In a life that is already full of decisions, a coat that makes a few of them for you is not shallow at all. It is practical care, worn on the outside.