A Spanish Army salt & pepper cotton jacket, thought to date from around the 1940s.
A special piece has come in.
When I first picked it up, I honestly took it for an Italian Army uniform.
That is how seldom one sees a Spanish Army piece with this bearing.
I have looked at more military jackets than I could count, and this one is a first even for me.
Let us begin with the form.
An extremely short length, cut off at the waist.
This descends from the "battledress" blouse adopted by Britain at the end of the 1930s.
Military dress until then had, as a matter of course, been long enough to cover below the waist; but in mechanised modern warfare, climbing in and out of vehicles, dropping prone and running mattered more.
So the length was severed at the waist, and a belt-like band run around the hem to fasten the garment to the body.
The idea spread from country to country, and Spain, too, arrived at the same shape.
The hem band carries a pair of buttoned tabs on each side.
Changing where they fasten draws the waist in, so the fit can be adjusted to the build of the wearer.
At the shoulders are epaulettes.
Originally intended to hold rank insignia and to stop equipment straps sliding off the shoulder, they are, I think, the feature that most strongly impresses a garment's military character.
At the chest sit patch pockets, one to each side, with peaked flaps.
A vertical pleat is taken down the centre of each pocket, so that they open out like bellows when filled. That a device for gaining capacity should stand as ornament in its own right is really rather handsome.
And what speaks to this piece's date is the crest struck into every button.
An eagle with wings spread wide holds a shield, a ribbon wound about it.
This is the arms of Spain as used from the end of the 1930s, and from the presence of buttons bearing this device, this jacket may be reckoned to date from around that time.
Gilt buttons run from the collar to the cuffs, the epaulettes and the hem tabs — over a dozen in all.
That each one is struck with the national arms is, in itself, something to behold.
The cloth is a salt and pepper cotton twill, woven from black and white yarns twisted together.
From a distance it reads as a calm grey; up close you can see the fine intermingling of black and ecru specks.
It is close in quality to the mottled cloth used for French atelier coats, and its expression belongs less to the military than to a craftsman's working dress.
The hand is supple while retaining a core.
Cotton yarn of eighty years ago was thicker and less even than that of today, and it is that unevenness, I think, that creates the light and shade in this cloth.
And mottled cloth of this kind lifts its black specks as it is worn, the whole growing brighter and hazier.
A pale vertical striping of fade has already emerged, so the continuation of that is yours to carry forward by your own hand.
The colour is the grey that comes of the salt and pepper.
Whitish under the light, sinking considerably in shadow.
Being achromatic it is unfussy about what it is worn with, and unlike the khaki and olive so common in military pieces, it drops into everyday dress astonishingly easily.
Thrown over a white T-shirt, with black or deep navy below.
The short length raises the centre of gravity and lengthens the leg, so slim trousers will suit it best.
There is one thing I should mention: all of the buttons are gold.
That is how it was at the time and it makes for a bearing of real presence, but in truth the impression it gives is somewhat strongly that of a uniform.
If everyday wear matters most to you, simply replacing them with buttons in black or brown will soften the impression astonishingly, and make it far easier to use.
Keep the gilt buttons you remove, of course, and it can be returned to its original state at any time.
Being able to play with it that way is, I think, one of the pleasures of this jacket.
There is no size marking, but in Japanese sizing it corresponds roughly to "M~L".
Room through the shoulders and body, with the length of the garment and the sleeves on the shorter side — dimensions thoroughly typical of military dress of the period.
Since the hem band draws it in, the way it sits will not be spoilt by any surplus through the body.
There is wear — soiling, chafing, loose stitching, small holes — but no significant damage that would affect wearing it, so there is a great deal of life in it yet.
I have yet to see another piece of this same shape.
Given how little documentation exists for the Spanish Army, and that this was made in the turbulent years around the war, I honestly cannot promise we shall meet another.
To take a military garment nobody has seen, and simply wear it as a grey jacket.
That is an indulgent sort of game — rather a good one, don't you think?