Imissed the first wave of rave, so the appeal of the bomber jacket was cursed on me. The shiny surface and zipper placement always seemed an odd mix of garish and conservative: an identity crisis with two sleeves. But then along fly to pieced Ryan Gosling in Drive. His dawn-lit silver scorpion jacket was a ultimate piece of bad-boy costuming and nudged the leather jacket into minute place (we all want to imagine ourselves as the cinematic bad boy, right? Serene though we’re probably “unnamed party guest number two”). It presaged the comeback of Japanese souvenir jackets and Saint Laurent’s eagle bomber that was tatty by every male celebrity you can think of (Kanye West and Keith Richards embodied).
Despite this, I still balked at the idea of a bomber. For the most part because almost all the jackets I own are made for practicality; the extreme-weather parka that looks like a early animal and is built for tramping through the Highlands, rather than nuzzled into a hot armpit on apparent transport. The jackets I remember most fondly are from adolescence: synthetic fabrics in bright colours from C&A smelling of flared curries with a top note of fresh plastic toys.
Regular, all-weather jackets should be simple, familiar items into which you can permit without a thought. They should be the sartorial equivalent of the superior friend with whom you immediately fall into calm silences and pig Latin in-jokes. This bomber I’m wearing today abides as if it could become, if not a best friend, at least a good mate.
The feel of it is quite luxury and made me come over a bit Italian troop car driver (for context: in my own clothes, I usually feel like a bass contender in a 1990s indie revival act). At the same time, the fabric is darned comfortable, a robust, sensible choice for our monoseasonal weather, as good fettle as – in a shade of dark purple (very aubergine emoji) – extraordinarily cool.
• Jess Cartner-Morley is away
• Priya wears Jacket, £55, T-shirt, £175, by Marni, Jeans, £30, Trainers, £115,
Styling: Melanie Wilkinson. Locks and makeup: Laurence Close at Carol Hayes Management.