GREAT COAT, MAN!

THE MARVELS OF PROG ROCK OUTERWEAR, BY MIKE BARNES.

IN THE ’70s there was a distinct feminisation of men’s fashion and while progressive rock fans were predominantly male teenagers, it was cool to look a bit “fem”. And what better way to achieve that look than a unisex Afghan coat? You could pick these up from the small ads in the NME for £14.95 in 1975 – the equivalent of around £125 in 2019. But while the coats always smelt on the earthy side, cheaper examples made of less well-cured leather could really reek.

“I can’t decide what it was that attracted me to my Afghan coat,” says Norwich head Richard Ball. “I’d seen other people wearing them, in photographs or on telly, but it hadn’t occurred to me that I’d want one. However, one day I popped into Chelsea Freak, one of the trendier Norwich shops, and there was a rack full of them and their unique scent even managed to overcome that of the incense that was burning. I tried one on and decided I looked cool in it. Plus, it complemented the other gear that I was wearing: loon pants, an orange T-shirt covered in stars, and clogs.”

More conservative parents might have been horrified to see that their son’s latest purchase made him look like an inside-out sheep. The best one could hope for was a disbelieving silence, while they processed what they had just seen.

For the less flamboyant, a more utilitarian option was the army surplus greatcoat. It was the Swiss Army Knife of ’70s outerwear. “The greatcoat was very useful,” recalls Edgar Broughton Band devotee Ben Waters. “It had big pockets to stash all your stuff, you could button it up to neck if it was cold. You could sit on it; you could even sleep in it. It felt that not only did you have a coat, you had a blanket, a mat and a storage place all in one.”

In 1970, artist Savage Pencil was a teenager heading out to see Emerson, Lake & Palmer on their first UK tour, but what to wear over his “severely uncool” work suit? He chose a greatcoat. His one worry was if his parents would sanction it. “I drew a picture of the greatcoat in a sketchbook and chanted a prayer of acceptance,” he says. “Whether this amateur bit of magick worked or not I could never tell, but on seeing it they actually congratulated me on making a wise choice.”