Survival takes Precidence

It is officially winter in Vermont. Whether or not the calendar agrees, the temperature sure as heck does. It's cold, people. Really freaking cold. And I am under-dressed.

I have never been accused of being stylish in my life. But, for better or for worse, I do have my own style. It involves lots of skirts, brightly colored shoes, v-neck shirts, and cardigans. I'm not all together sure how this style evolved, but I feel comfortable in it and wear this uniform regularly. However, it's not what one would call "warm". To wit: it's is less than 20 degrees out these days in the sun and I do not own a hat.

Years ago I should have learned my lesson. One of my first experiences in Burlington involved my ex-boyfriend bringing me up here for First Night in 1999. I'm a Massachusetts native and unaccustomed to walking around in extreme temperatures. There we have the good sense to stay inside when it's cold. But not up here. I distinctly remember one moment as Jessie and I walked out of Memorial Auditorium mid day having picked up special event tickets, and a woman accosted me. I was wearing my traditional garb of the day: long black skirt, black doc martens, v-neck sweater, and olive green wool Burberry dress coat I purchased in London. Note, I had no scarf, hat, or mittens. I owned none of these. The aforementioned woman stopped me in the snow and cried "Cover up your naked chest, young lady! You'll catch your death out here!" I took her to be a nutcase. Little did I know that I would agree with her 100% mere hours from then. While previously it had been just over 32 degrees during the day, the temperature plunged to 5 below once the sun set. Have I mentioned I had no scarf, hat or mittens? While we traipsed from event to event, my ears, eyes, hands and feet began to sting with a ferocity I hadn't previously experienced. By 9:30 I started to cry. I could no longer feel most of my body. Jessie quickly pulled me into a store on Church Street to warm me, but my face and hands were bright red and weren't warming up. We had, much to my chagrin, parked on the waterfront to watch the fireworks and anyone native to this area will understand that the temperature by the lake is not only colder, but amplified by a wind chill that will strip the flesh from your bones. And I had to walk the 8 blocks to get back to the car with ginger steps and tears still streaming from my eyes. Poor Jessie. He didn't realize until that moment what a flatlander I really was. Back at his parents house I soaked in a warm bath for hours while his mother, a biology teacher, checked my limbs for signs of frostbite. I narrowly escaped.

It's 9 years later and I still live here while Jessie has smartly moved to Cambridge MA. While I do own a set of fleece mittens and several scarfs, I haven't mastered the art of dressing for the weather. As I mentioned, I still do not own a hat. As Josh will sadly tell you, this is because I can't find one that doesn't make my head look misshapen. Fashion over function. However, I'm reaching the point of desperation. On my way to chorus rehearsal on Saturday, there was a good inch of snow on the ground outside my house. This seems like it would trigger some sort of "hey, I should wear socks" response in any intelligent person. Instead, I wore a summer dress (with cardigan, thank you very much) and slip on polka dot sneakers I just bought. I stood out there, brushing the snow off of my car in my tiny sneakers like an idiot. I was cold. Very cold. And stupid. Very stupid. I was only one at rehearsal not covered from head to toe. And when I returned and began to walk to Josh's, I realized I was coveting the clothing of other girls I would usually laugh at. A woman walked by me with fleece lined jeans, snow boots, a gigantic ski hat, mittens the size of oven mitts, and a down filled jacket that made her look like a purple snow man. But she looked warm. And I envied her. And at that moment, I realized I had learned nothing from the last 9 years. It's winter, it's cold, and I'm under dressed. But I swear that from this moment on, I will wear weather appropriate attire. As long as it doesn't make my head look like a potato.