IN THE 1820s Charles Macintosh fabricated the first genuinely waterproof waterproof from his own patented 'india-rubber cloth', using proofed seams. In 1851 George Spill inserted metal eyelets under the armpits to provide an outlet for perspiration. A year or two later, Crimean war hero Baron Raglan devised a garment from old potato sacks to keep his soldiers warm. It had diagonal slashes across the corners, from which developed the roomy 'raglan sleeve' for over-garments. In 1914 Thomas Burberry designed his weatherproof for warfare, the trench-coat. It was in 1949 that Leslie Cohen made the final entry in the Cloakroom of Fame. He adapted these classically styled garments to the material of the moment: plastic.

ANYONE who remembers the high streets of Britain between the Thirties and Sixties may find it scarcely credible that, as reported in our Business section today, Burton is to contract out the selling of suits in its own shops. In those days, where there was a high street there was a Montague Burton shop, its vacuously smiling dummies promising a suiting of decent, if unexciting, quality.

Police were trying to identify the body of a woman found floating in the harbour at Dover, Kent. The woman, who was black and in her late forties, was wearing a blue swimming costume under a raincoat.

As we become more familiar with the shape and character of this decade, the profound issues of our time come into clearer focus. There is no more difficult nor central issue than the apparently growing divergence between the needs of business and that of society at large.

From smash-and-grab raids in the Harrods china department to the refined account customer preview at Jaeger, the January sales are still somehow special. Most of them start in December and - great news for last-minute Christmas shoppers - a few are already on. So check out our sales guide and pick the best shops for bargains.

'THE RAINCOATS are so bad tonight that every time a waiter drops a tray we all get up and dance . . . I die so many times during their set that in India they think I'm the fourth prophet.' Such was the verdict of the NME in 1979. The reviewer: Danny Baker, en route to becoming a chat-show host and Daz Ultra's representative on earth.

On the last day of each school year, the head teacher of Brampton Down girls' boarding school in Folkestone, Kent, used to get a telephone call from 'a parent', asking which train the sixth form was taking on its way home for the hols. The parent, a titled but impecunious woman friend of mine, knew that by the time the train reached Victoria the school- leavers would have dressed as vamps, discarding a uniform of tunics and expensive Harrods flecked tweed overcoats on the train.

LORD JOHN: Miss Leete trod on a toad.

Sir: I have noticed that in nearly all public buildings the temperature is adjusted to be comfortable for the employees who work there.

IN 'The strange case of the vacant chair' (Review, 1 August) James Rampton sets out to illustrate how the rival detectives have borrowed from Morse. It is suggested that Michael Gambon's Maigret was a Morse clone, 'the moody middle-aged malcontent' (not forgetting, of course, the belted raincoat). In fact, Gambon's performance was highly reminiscent of the earlier TV occupant of the role, Rupert Davies, 20-odd years before John Thaw had ever heard of Morse. The article also suggests similarities between Thaw's character and a young, blonde, female detective: 'she drives a classic car, is a workaholic and has a confused personal life'. John Steed drove a classic Bentley in The Avengers 25 years ago] Z-Cars' John Watt had a confused personal life because of his workaholism. In fact, so did Sherlock Holmes. Irascibility - has Mr Rampton ever heard of Charlie Barlow, or Hercule Poirot? One reason for Morse's success was that he was an amalgam of so many of the detective cliches established by his predecessors.

AMONG the greatest of life's pleasures I count settling down to a goodly jar of Best Bitter with my old friend and quaffing partner Lord (if you will]) Rees-Mogg.

The past is always with us. Doubters should turn their attention to Strathblair (BBC1 Sunday) as the Fifties-located rural soap enters its second and final run. Another attempted escape into a pastoral never-never land where stability is signalled by the rigidity of the social order - here straddling the extremes of Scottish land labourers and English overlords - the programme has now evolved from a sheep-fanciers sex fantasy into the sum total of its period details.

THE classic Sixties Pakamac is back - with attitude. 'Everything we wear is a statement about ourselves, and a Pakamac adds to your personality,' explains Ian McCall. He is the managing director of the Manchester firm Casket, which has redesigned, repackaged and relaunched the original foldaway raincoat.

BLAST from the past: Part One. Lord Kagan, the Gannex raincoat-maker who was made a life peer by Harold Wilson only to go to jail for 10 months for theft and false accounting, is moving into property development. His multi-million-pound scheme to redevelop the trotting racetrack between York and Harrogate includes a 'health village' for people suffering from diseases such as Alzheimer's. If he gets planning permission, how about Ernest Saunders to do the honours and cut the ribbon?