The Hunting Pink
Supping a breakfast mulled wine and munching a mince pie on Boxing Day morning, the local hunt trotted through a nearby town. A big crowd had gathered to see them off. I became transfixed by the hunting pink jacket you see here, which the rider said had been in active service over eighty years. Judging by his age, this clearly meant it had been passed on through the generations.
The SurvivorOver its long life the jacket has typified ancient tradition fully rooted and in touch with its community and its surroundings. Self-serving, pusillanimous governments come and go, causes and conflicts fall in and out of fashion and EUs crumble. Constant and authentic, this remarkable jacket and the life it represents remains steadfast against prevailing whims and fancies.
