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Gawd! That picture brings back a long forgotten memory! I remember that kind of plastic gear! I had one a bit like it from Lewis Leathers called, I think, the “Husky”, a full-length job complete with a “cod piece” flap between the legs and press studs that closed the bottom of the coat around the legs. All very waterproof but tended to go as stiff as a suit of armour in the cold!

Anyway, one rainy day I forgot to turn off the petrol taps on my Comet when filling up at my local petrol station, the result a flooded carburettor. The first attempt to start resulted in a kickback and a vicious raking by the kickstart up the inside of my leg, leather motorcycle boots and waterproof over-trousers not withstanding.
After a good deal of hopping around on one leg and then relating to it a brief but concise history of its parentage along with those of Messer’s. Davis and Vincent I wheeled the brute out onto the road, stuck it into second, rocked it back on compression, waddled forward and dropped the clutch.
The blighter fired first bite and took off like, well, a comet! In jerking forward as it did I inadvertently opened the throttle more and in an instant found myself at full stretch, chin where my bum was supposed to be, legs flailing helplessly over the back and before I know it I’m doing something like 40 down the road engine bellowing in second gear with all the local biddies staring and tut-tuting about mad motorcyclists!
So now I’m in a right pickle, I’m fighting for my life with my arms at full stretch I dare not loosen my grip on the throttle for fear of turning left, mowing down several of the said biddies and then entering one of several shops via the shop window! Every effort to pull myself back onto the bike being severely hampered by that b****y Husky coat. After what seemed like an eternity but probably only a couple of hundred yards, I managed to gain enough slack on my arms to throttle down and regain control without even falling off.
Soon after that I started using another petrol station, something about the way they were looking at me told me it was time I moved on . . .