It's all about length you see.

When you're a student you've only got a short one, but as soon as you become a doctor then it stretches to at least your knees.

I'm talking of course about white coats, and there's no doubt that this garment is as symbolic of the assumption of your new role as a legal wig is to a barrister.

But within our robe lies both good and bad points.

To the patient it represents cleanliness and sterility, but in my experience this initial view might be flawed.

If you were to have closely examined any white coat that had adorned my torso during my hospital years then you would soon realise that 'white' was a relative and not a definite term.

Sure, they start off clean the day they emerge from the laundry, but it doesn't take long for the detritus to build up. Most of it is invisible.

Tiny blood spatterings don't show up unless you look closely, and quite a few bodily fluids are likely to be spilt, as is the juice from the runny curry consumed at lunchtime.

Sexy bleeps

A white coat was the first mobile office. In your left pocket resides 70% of the tools of the trade, a stethoscope, patella hammer and ophthalmoscope. On your right is your reference section containing the British National Formulary (BNF) and pocket oxford textbook of medicine.

Top breast pocket holds pen torch and numerous writing implements whist the communication package (bleep) is either sexilly strapped to your belt, or in the less ostentatious, clipped to the top pocket.

Unlike wigs there were to my knowledge only two sizes ever available, extra large and extra extra large. Fine for a person of my fine physique (!), but liable to drown smaller lady doctors who resembled Russian Cossacks with their sleeves rolled back dozens of times..

I do remember the joy of putting on a totally new coat that came out of a packet and still had creases in it, and the disappointment when you were the last one to turn up at the laundry and had to settle for a very off-white example with split pockets and a strange brown stain on the left side.

However one very dangerous use of a white coat was as a sort of roving waste bin, and on one occasion the previous occupier of my coat had left an unsheathed needle in the pocket which had survived the laundry process and provided a nasty surprise when I rummaged for my BNF.

It just shows how dangerous the jobs in hospital laundries can be!