Many women ask, "When is it appropriate for a lady to wear her Cordarounds coat in smoking-jacket mode?"  To answer this important question, we’ve called on Lazenby, Cordarounds' romantic skirt spokesman, who is standing by to answer your questions on fashion and adventure. Simply click Comments below.

 
Gentle Citizenry, It has been far too long since Lazenby's quill has danced merrily upon these pages, and this regrettable fact does make Lazenby ache with you, verily.  But oh, had you heard but a whisper of the travails visited upon him in the farthest corner of the Earth, you would not begrudge his absence.  Nay! You would cower beneath a quilt, shivering with fear!

And now the mystery shall be revealed; Lazenby shall recount for you now the circumstances of his disappearance  and in doing so, answer the question that grips the soul of many a woman: When shall I wear my cordarounds coat in smoking jacket mode? (Gentle womenfolk, Lazenby requests you prostrate yourselves upon feather pillows, with fans at the ready!)

Your humble mounted servant has returned from the Orient, where he endeavored to rescue Lady Delilah Breckonshire, the buttery-soft creature of ineffable beauty and infinite wisdom -- particularly in matters of fashion -- who had been abducted by the despicable opium lord, Baron Chou.  If only this vision of virtue had not been wearing her new reversible Cordarounds smoking jacket inside-out, which multiplied her beauty a hundredfold and transformed her into a quarry of celestial delight for the cur Chou, who gazed at her through eyes flogged by the insidious poppy, the beast-energy growing in him by the second!  Indeed, a woman wearing such lovely and versatile togs brought forth a tingle in Chou that Lazenby himself has felt, and cannot explain without blushed countenance.

Suffice it to say, the fiend was dispatched promptly by Lazenby and his deadly accuracy with the javelin.  Then he stole into the steamy night with the good Lady Breckonshire, she and her jacket hidden beneath the cloak of Lazenby, lest the hungry claws of the White Dragon reach out again in search of a fashionable young lovely!

Rest well again, good folk.  Know that not another night shall pass in this City by the Bay that the streets do not echo with the hooves of my steed, and the pounding of a heart so restless.  And know that if you wear your Cordarounds jacket in its so-called smoking mode, you yourself shall smolder not unlike the fires that rage within the cauldron of passion that is Lazenby, and he shall draw titanic breaths of longing as he gazes upon you.

Excelsior!