This is a 1990s Tissavel dark green faux fur coat that exudes class, but also has something edgy, an exterior for the femme fatale,  like a v-12 engine cloaked in a superlatively sleek finish. 
First the essential facts before I was lyrical like she deserves, 
It is by Gini Pearl of Weybridge Surrey, a quality designer boutique that have been there since the early 1990s. Weybridge is also home of the Brooklands vintage racetrack & motor museum. A girl has to have a quality classy dark green faux fur coat, especially if it matches your car! Whether you wish to emulate the Italian Sciura , or English old money, the choice of your accessories be a chunky gold chain or a string if classic pearls over your dark green cashmere high neck sweater will create either impression with this stunning piece. This is more class and elegance and less mob wife.
She is a 'Medium' size, so suitable for a size UK 8 to 14.; though a tall size UK 6 could get away with it, or even a small size UK 16. So I have listed it as one size.
As well as the sublime colour and elegance, and has lovely decorative gold coloured metal almost cone shape buttons, including at the cuffs which are 'windcheater' ballooned in so a lovely style feature. The fastening on the front though is not buy button, but by hidden hook and eye fasteners. From the videos, there looks like some 'seat' wear but that is because I have heightened the contrast to show details; in reality this isn't manifest to speak of: it doesn't actually have that 'dry' lack of sheen 'worn' appearance there like those with seat wear or that have been washed (NEVER wash faux furs like these dry clean only!) . It has that lustre from the nap that moves dark or light when you brush over it with your hand. The only notable flaw I can see is the lining. No tears or damage, but what appears to be fading from a dark purple blue to a warmer lighter tone gradually toward the bottom - actually adds immense character to it; and I am not even sure if it's not a dégradé fabric!  It is actually quite beautiful like a tonik finish, but I think likely caused by sunlight fading the lining, but not 100% sure that isn't as I say, a dégradé finish. You can see where I open the coat in the videos. 
I chose to wear this just casually with black jeans & long boots, but would also look great dressed up for day or evening wear, keep rest of outfit simple but co-ordinated. A dark green dress, dark green cashmere high neck sweater and 1940s style flared pats for instance would look great. I felt so good modelling it I was so wearing it to go for lunch at a new local Turkish restaurant as they had an offer on £12 inc a drink 2 courses! And it is quite swish. Lunching watching world go by in my local High st was the where I first saw the Jaguar XJ220 btw in British Racing Green we do get the odd supercar waiting for the lights revving; usually local footballers heh. I was careful though not to get food on it don't worry!
And now, her spirit....
 
She emerges like a 1990s grand tourer easing out of a Mayfair mews at dusk — just below knee length, dark as wet ivy, unapologetically British racing green. The sheared faux fur is cut to an almost engineered precision, its high thread density creating a surface so sleek it appears lacquered rather than woven. Light does not scatter across it; it travels. It glides in long, controlled highlights, like reflections skimming the bonnet of a hand-finished performance car. The faux fur is by Tissavel , sheared beaver appearance to a precise, velvety finish, with a high thread density that creates a remarkably sleek surface—no shaggy excess, just a smooth, fluid nap that catches the light in a controlled, liquid sheen. The color is unmistakably British racing green: deep, saturated, and quietly commanding.

There’s something distinctly 1990s about its glamour—minimal yet indulgent, powerful yet pared back. In both tone and temperament, it recalls the high-performance silhouettes of Jaguar during that era. Think of the sculpted curves and taut surfaces of the Jaguar XJ220 or the poised athleticism of the Jaguar XJR—machines finished in the same storied green, their paintwork gleaming with depth and polish. Just as those cars combined muscular engineering with feline grace, this coat balances structure with fluidity.
And hence my Spirit of the Age and Garment song is the 60 Foot Dolls 'British Racing Green' , the b side of Pig Valentine their first single, released in 1995, and undoubtedly the most underrated of the Britpop bands of that time.
"When you come around....I'll show you how fast it goes....
Got a new machine ....just so everybody knows....
British Racing Green....just to see how fast it goes...."
Yeah I'd go pretty fast in this heh...but without being 'flashy' as it were. So sleek, sensual to touch, and something about contrast of soft and hard yet smooth streamlined glossy surfaces....
The coat’s sheen mirrors the lacquered bodywork of a 1990s Jaguar under overcast skies: not flashy, but richly lustrous, with a surface tension that suggests latent power. Its trapezium cut is aerodynamic in spirit—broad at the shoulders, subtly flared below—like that grand tourer designed to slice cleanly through air. And in motion, the comparison becomes most vivid: the fabric sways like a chassis settling into a curve, controlled and assured, never excessive.

The trapezium silhouette is where the drama lives. Broad and composed through the shoulders, it releases gradually into a measured flare, swaying with a calibrated elegance as the wearer walks. There is no flutter, no fuss — just a controlled arc outward and return, like suspension settling through a sweeping bend. The coat doesn’t move loosely or slip from the shoulder bend; it tracks.
Its sheen recalls the depth of finish perfected by Jaguar in the 1990s — that unmistakable, almost liquid British racing green seen on the prowling Jaguar XJ220, or the quietly menacing Jaguar XJR. Those cars were defined by tension held beneath polish: taut body lines stretched over formidable engineering. This coat achieves the same effect in textile form. Beneath its softness lies structure; beneath its glamour, control.
 
Unlike longer shaggy faux fur,  removing excess loft, the fur becomes aerodynamic in appearance — a continuous plane of colour and sheen, uninterrupted and deliberate. It has the visual torque of a supercharged engine idling low: power implied rather than displayed. In motion, the hem swings just wide enough to suggest speed without sacrificing composure. It is feline, yes — but not wild. It is bred for performance. 
 
And there is something quintessentially 1990s about it — that era’s belief in streamlined luxury. Like a Jaguar poised at the lights, it commands attention through restraint. It does not chase the eye; it holds it. 
 
Worn at night, under streetlamps reflecting off rain-dark pavement, the coat becomes almost automotive in its gloss — a moving silhouette of deep green lacquer and sculpted intent. Elegant. Sleek. Engineered to sway. Both the coat and those British racing green performance cars embody a particular kind of elegance—confident, understated, and impeccably sleek. They don’t shout; they purr. Both Jaguar and Tissavel use a big cat silhouette logo with some justification in terms of feline elegance.
British Racing Green. Cut to Purr.