Tabard

The long rows of wheat-shocks marched like soldiers in worn yellow tabards.

‘I still cannot believe I actually did that!’ Maureen told me, recalling that time her and the Nanas turned up at former prime minister David Cameron's house in Oxfordshire on a tank Vivienne Westwood lent them, wearing tabards that said ‘The Oven Gloves Are Coming Off’.

This is the point at which someone usually suggests riders wear a numbered, hi-vis tabard.

And thereupon, behold, a knight on a black horse appeared, clothed in jet-black velvet, and with a tabard of black linen about him.

The heralds in their tabards were marvellous to behold, and a nod from Rouge Croix gave me the keenest gratification.

Along the narrow winding path between the great oak trees there rode a dark sallow man in a scarlet tabard who blew so loudly upon a silver trumpet that they heard the clanging call long before they set eyes on him.

She wore a short surcoat of scarlet, cut low around the shoulders, sleeveless, reaching just below her hips, like the tabards worn by medieval heralds. Over it she wore a laced-edged cotta.