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David and I are both struck by the sight of this ancient coat still hung on a nail in a room whose floor had long ago fallen in. It is easy to imagine it as my grandfather's workcoat, hung up after a day in the garden, or working with tools around back.

I have come to Italy wearing a $300 Kenneth Cole distressed leather jacket, purchased at a tony shop on a work jaunt to Las Vegas. I bought it new, but paid so much because it looks and feels old, the leather smudged and wearied, soft and buttery as if with age. It looks as worn and soft, and nearly the same color, as this truly worn jacket we find in the house of my grandparents.



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