My father's Pierre Cardin jacket in really plush, good quality green corduroy.
My parents lived in Paris in their early 20s in the '70s. At the time, anyone who was slender enough could shop the sample sales of couture houses, and the prices were not the outrageous ones of today. They didn't earn a lot, but they bought some nice pieces. This is one of them.
My mother's pieces did not survive, because she wore them to death. She had an interesting job as a young adult; she presented well, so she was hired by a luxury watchmaker to shop at other jewelers' and watchmaker's places and bring back watches so they could reverse-engineer them. She walked about Place Vendôme looking like a million dollars - which she most decidedly did not have