The leather jacket is more than a garment; it is a companion, a second skin that carries stories in its creases and memories in its scars. From the first time it is pulled on, stiff and unfamiliar, it begins a quiet transformation. The leather softens with movement, learns the shape of its wearer, and slowly becomes personal in a way few other things ever do.

There is a reassuring weight to a leather jacket. When you slide your arms into the sleeves and zip it up, it feels like armour, a subtle promise of protection from the world. The smell of leather—rich, earthy, unmistakable—has a grounding effect, evoking workshops, open roads, and the quiet confidence of things built to last. It is practical, yes, shielding against wind and cold, but it also offers something less tangible: resolve.

A leather jacket doesn’t chase fashion; it outlives it. Trends come and go, but leather remains, ageing gracefully rather than wearing out. Every mark has meaning. A scuff on the elbow might recall a long ride home at dusk, while a faded patch across the shoulders could speak of years spent leaning into weather and time. Unlike new clothes that look their best on day one, a leather jacket grows better with age, gaining character instead of losing it.

There is also identity stitched into its seams. For some, it represents freedom—the simple act of throwing it on and stepping out, ready for whatever lies ahead. For others, it is confidence made visible, a quiet statement that needs no explanation. It can make you stand a little straighter, walk with a little more purpose. Not because it changes who you are, but because it reminds you of who you’ve been.

When hung up at the end of the day, a leather jacket never looks lifeless. It waits, shaped by use, holding onto warmth and memory. And when it’s worn again, it doesn’t just cover the body—it carries the past forward, ready to add another chapter.

Now I bought the jacket  (see below) about 14 years ago. I've cleaned it twice in its tenure with me. The first time because it was stolen and recovered from a creek. The second because the first clean did it wonders. It is planet heavy when you are just holding it. but once on the weight vanishes and it becomes a slightly baggy second skin, weightless and natural. Enough room to put the fish and chips down the front. The elbow protectors disintegrated about a year ago, but some replacement Alpinestar ones fitted straight in. This jacket is my friend, my protector, my go to bit of riding kit. It even has a St Cristopher the patron saint of travel dangling from a thread in the top pocket which came with the jacket. At the time I paid $900 odd for it which seemed excessive, but now all these years later that means nothing. You can never replace quality, just like you cant replace a friend.

The nicest petrol tank ever produced. Sure Yamaha make a good tank too, but the Guzzi still beats it hands down.

265 Mopar goodness

 OK that's about all, I'm off fishing next week. Need to get my line in the water.