Yesterday it was 89 degrees in NYC. Yes folks. 89 degrees at the beginning of April. And while today won't be quite so scorching, it'll still be over 80. My concern is not global warming ramifications, but what to wear.
It's always hard for me to change clothing gears, to make necessary seasonal switches. And the hardest is spring into summer. I work my way through my coat collection, going from the heaviest black polyester, mod plaids wools, heavier velvets (although those work better in fall), 3/4 toppers, to super lightweight. And then, every year, I have to confront the coat-less day.
I have to let go of my fashion armor and be myself. With my butt (covered of course), out there for all to see. No fabulous fabric or funky pattern to distract people. Just walking around in a t-shirt and chinos—of course with a spring scarf—is not easy. And then there's the jump from basic color to my outrageous 60s summer dresses. It seems I'm a fan of Hawaiian bark cloth, a heavy-ish cotton that holds vibrant color, and I've got some that are almost blinding. It takes serious guts to walk out of the house in some and that transition takes place over months. By July I'm a billboard for extreme retro, but getting there was no easy feat.
Which makes right now almost impossible for me. I haven't had my ease-into period. I can't pull out crazy vintage without putting in the tolerance building time.
There are times when people stop me on the street, asking where I found whatever it is I'm wearing. And there are times I want to be invisible, in cargo pants and a plain grey t-shirt. Temperature-wise, today is a psychadelic mod a-line but mentally I'm still at the edge, dipping my toe in to my fashion pool.