The Orange Jacket — on kindness and untold stories

It's April 8th. We are in Tromso, on a bus on the way to the airport. I'm sitting in the first rows looking out the window when someone taps my shoulder: it's Lene. She is holding something orange and offering it to me.

Let me go back in time a bit. In 2024, Lene and I, along with 18 other people, were chosen to do Fjällräven Polar, a dogsledding expedition of 300km in the arctic. The clothing brand gives a bunch of clothing and equipment to the selected participants before getting there so you have to send your measurements. Because of my inexperience telling size for this kind of adventure and their fear of providing too-small clothes, I was given size M of everything, instead of S or even XS.

So even with all six layers of clothes I was wearing, I looked like I was swimming in my orange shell jacket. Right before boarding the plane Lene noticed that and offered me her own, size S. Turns out she had a spare one, very similar to the ones we were wearing with our name tags. As I learned later on, she had been chosen to do Fjällräven Polar in 2019, but covid hit and the trip was cancelled. Still, the brand sent some equipment to the selected participants as a present. That’s why Lene had two jackets size S, and she was offering me one of them for the expedition. But I couldn’t accept it, I had just met her and didn’t feel deserving of such an offer. My only worry was not freezing to death in -30 degrees. Even if I didn’t look great in a size M, I was comfortable enough to go on the expedition wearing it. 

“My only worry was not freezing to death in -30 degrees.”

And so we boarded the plane. It was an unbelievable week-long adventure that left a mark on everyone who took part in it. I vividly remember that on the very first night, Lene’s shoulder was very supportive during my PMS outburst. Even though we were in different teams, we always found a way to have a little chat. As days went by, even when I was feeling dehydrated, or when I didn’t feel like I had enough energy to do all that it takes to camp in the arctic, I knew I could look her way and find a friendly face.

By the end of the trip, I crossed the finish line with a few more friends in this world, one could even say a Polar family. So back to the bus, as everyone was about to say goodbye, Lene approached me to give me her jacket, the one that was given to her for the failed covid expedition. Wow, I couldn’t believe it. After asking at least 15 times if she was sure, I accepted the gift. And soon, I took it to my next great adventure.

The first multi-day trek I took was in Germany, and it rained so much that this jacket was a lifesaver. In fact, after that trek we visited Lene and Mario, her partner. I remember I kept referring to the jacket as your jacket. For some reason, I still felt it was borrowed. I gave it a lot of thought: why did I feel so undeserving? I think it took a while for me to fully open my heart and accept this unconditional generosity from a new friend. It made me realize how bad I was at receiving — and how much I needed to learn. Accepting this gift was a massive internal movement for me.

Lene and I in Lindau, 2024

As I started taking the jacket to more and more hikes here at home, it made me think of the life it had before me, the rain, the gloomy landscapes it witnessed with its previous owner. What I love about it is that it holds so many untold stories, many of which I still don’t know about. It’s a beautiful thing how inanimate objects can carry soul. Some of my fondest memories happened while I was wearing this jacket.

“It’s a beautiful thing how inanimate objects can carry soul.”

Since then, my oversized jacket -the one with my name tag- is now worn by my partner, my brother or any friend who needs shelter from the rain.

This story has been in the back of my mind for quite some time. I’m so happy I finally sat down to write it. I might forget a birthday or calling my mom after a busy day (sorry mom), but I can never forget this act of kindness. Thank you Lene, I’m honored by this gift. And thank you Fjällräven for giving us a great story and a friendship for life. Still more adventures to come!

If you see an orange blur in the mountains on a rainy day, reach out and say hi! I’d love to chat.

See you in the mountains or by the sea,

Flor