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Oh, what to wear during ‘In Between' season
By Carole Cloudwalker
This document was published online on Wednesday, September 12, 2007
When it comes to dressing for the weather, the Awkward Season has begun in earnest, at least in Wapiti.
September launches those Not Quite Fall, But No Longer Summer days when you think of building a fire in the wood stove in the evening, but start to long for sleeveless shirts and lightweight sandals again by 3 p.m. the following day.
When the alarm rings at 5:30 a.m. on a September morn, the wood stove dominates your thoughts once more, as do dreams of central heating with the furnace cranked up.
(These are only dreams for me, you understand, since I have no central heat, just electric baseboard heaters and the trusty wood stove, that heat source that causes me few worries except what to do if the cedar shake roof catches one spark too many and I have my very own crown fire torching up there where Santa used to land.)
Make that a wish for central air conditioning again when it's time for school to let out, though. Then global warming has kicked back in, as have temps in the high 80s. I told you, it's the Awkward Season.
Then comes that enemy of summer clothes: the first snowfall. Often flowers are still blooming in their wooden tubs when the first white flakes drift down.
One year that occurred the first week of school, when my children were delighted to have a Snow Day vacation shortly after they celebrated Labor Day. Hoo-ah.
During that first snow, the “strappy” little pink sandals that served you well all summer feel really stupid - and look plain old silly - on your bare feet as you traipse through an inch of white stuff en route to your car in the workplace parking lot.
They would look even sillier, though, if you wore them with a pair of socks.
And are your pinkie toes really that funny blue color, or have they just suffered a bad bout of early frostbite? Only your pedicurist knows for sure, though you may have your own suspicions.
Andy Rooney says you should only wear a Greek Fisherman's Cap if you are A) Greek and B) a fisherman.
I say the same about bare feet in the snow like Sherpa guides, a look that should be reserved for those who are A) Sherpas and B) guides.
The next thing to come down the pike in the Awkward Season are those unbreakable fashion dictates that were ingrained in you as a child. It's tough to break away from them, dumb as they might seem now.
Fashion forward folks, and even people who played them on TV, had to adhere to those dictates under a fashion structure no less severe than the India caste system.
As a junior high school student, for example, you at one time feared a painful death by peer pressure if you broke a rule and, say, wore white after Labor Day.
Did you dare to risk being shunned for sporting brown shoes while carrying a black purse? Is that a ticketable offense? What if your belt does not match your shoes? Shall you burn the belt or throw caution to the wind and wear them both together?
I worry about this one, especially since I am becoming color-blind, something that may be desirable politically, but that really stinks when it comes to detecting navy blue vs. black, for example.
I can no longer tell them apart now that the overhead light by my closet burned out and I can't climb up on the chair to fix it without getting woozy and likely suffering from altitude sickness.
That bulb burned out a year back. Now I squint by dawn's early light and peer into my dark closet, hoping to get lucky and find a skirt that matches a shirt, with both being of suitable material for the entire day ahead.
In summer that's easier, at least the suitable material part, since I figure nothing in that closet will be comfortable anyhow when the thermometer hits 90 degrees. The best anyone can hope for is an office where the air conditioning is functional on such days.
In this t'ween season, though, it's even more difficult to retain a bearable temperature all day long.
The “layered look” works fairly well in September: just don a fluffy parka, ear muffs and a pair of mukluks over a thin, short-sleeved cotton shirt, a cotton skirt and those old strappy sandals each morning. Then peel off the outerwear during your lunch break, but keep it all handy for late afternoon, when the sun goes down.
And bring along additional garments to help ease the pain of chilblains and/or heat stroke until the Wyoming weather decides which season to stick with for a while.
The rule, in Wapiti, may be to dress for entire hours, not entire days.
Forget dressing for success. We dress for survival.
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