Longer work jackets are your new maneuver, especially since your regular friends are just discovering macs and trench coats. Fuck 'em and stunt with a really casual, not as water resistant, French work jacket. I want to be a French guy who wears jackets like this to his florist job, selling giant sunflowers and rare dahlias and cosmos and shit. Really though, I'd just sit outside the shop in a wrought iron chair and smoke cigarettes and drink coffee and red wine. My flowers would be incredibly expensive, but your more chic friends would explain to you that Sophia Coppola swears by my flowers. I will blow menthol cigarette smoke into your face as I mutter slander under my breath, all while wrapping up your lavender in butcher's paper and twine.