need stacy, clinton

It was cold walking from class to my car last night—beyond cashmere-sweater-and-fall-jacket cold. It was legit winter-in-New-England-hats-gloves-scarves cold. It was walking-around-my-house-in-Uggs cold. I love my Uggs. I don't even care. The furrier the boot, the better. And if I find humongous, Abominable Snowman furry boots in my size and the right price, they will be mine. And then I'll have to find the right skinny pants to wear with them. A petite skinny pant because the tight-jeans look doesn't work when the pant was made for someone five inches taller.

Two, maybe three, years ago I decided to embrace the winter, meaning embrace the accessories that winter brings. It was a "if you can't beat it..." sort of attitude. My (male, twenty-something) cousin pulled my name out of the Extended Family Christmas Grab and later my sister saw in a bar and whispered in his ear what to buy me: winter accessories. He (or, I'm sure, his girlfriend) got me a skinny black-and-white scarf and a white knit hat with a pom-pom and earflaps. Love. I am enamored with huge furry winter hats, just as I'm enamored with huge furry winter boots. The uglier the better. I requested a furry ear-flapped hat for Christmas last year after pointing out one I liked in the pages of J. Crew. My mother and I had been perusing the catalogue and I gasped at the hat, brown suede, a bit Elmer-Fudd meets prep school, fur-lined. It was $100. My mother found me a similar one at Macy's for less than $30. I hadn't even gotten it out of the gift box on Christmas morning before my mom said, "You can take this back. I almost returned it, it's so ugly." I love it. Not surprising.

This winter I need a coat. I have three, but hear me out. One is over five years old and was beautiful in its day. It's olive green, knee-length, hooded, lined in nubby taupe and hooks in the front. My grad school friend called it my "Chronicles of Narnia" coat. I hadn't seen the movie but I knew what she meant. Only it's getting a little too nubby, a little worn around the edges. I bought it from Warehouse in London in, oh...2001? Yikes.

The second isn't old; I bought it a couple years ago from Macy's. This is what happens when I shop alone sans Mom: I buy things that are too big, thinking they look great. It took a year before my mom finally commented how it was too long, the sleeves too big, and the shoulders too wide. Linebacker-wide, that's all I can see when I wear it now. It's pink, tweedy. Cute but doesn't do anything for my shape.

The third is my puffer, chocolate brown and fitted enough so I don't feel like a marshmallow. I love it, no complaints, except it's not dressy enough. If I'm going to be teaching undergrad classes I need to look professorial. I need (need/want) something fitted, maybe one of those beautiful wool bell-shaped jackets with the fitted waists and three-quarter length sleeves. I could pair it with long gloves and buy it in a beautiful color, like winter white or a Burburryesque plaid. I could pair it with an A-line skirt and smart boots and wouldn't I be the well-heeled visiting lecturer!

Of course, it would take me a minute before I got lipgloss on the winter white collar. Anyways.

Going out with the laadeez tonight to see our friend's new apartment. Meaning we're all commuting from the 'burbs except the ones who are staying in town after work and going straight there. Meaning I don't anticipate parking anywhere close to her building and need to carefully consider my outerwear. Just like I hate wearing flip flops before at least mid-May, I don't think it's puffer-jacket weather until what...Dec. 1? They may be arbitrary rules but they're mine. I'm planning on my navy (the one thing I own in navy) turtleneck with awesomely big buttons down the neck, a jean jacket, a pink pashmina scarf, brown Chuck Taylors. And my pants? Will be wide-legged, in winter white.