The Ugly Season

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!  The last day of November! New Englanders officially don’t have to shave until spring!*

Jealous, Floridians?  Envious Californians?  You can have your San Diego, but don’t take my Schenectady.  Schenectady and I won’t see the sun until April!  Whoop whoop!

Yes, any last ditch hope of wearing three quarter length skirts and high boots is over!  No inch of skin can go uncovered until Easter. It’s time for stockings, thick, wool stockings, which drape three inches lower than our nether regions (and who put up a fight every time we use the lavatory).  C’mon ladies, who doesn’t want to pay twelve dollars for a single pair of tights which are guaranteed to develop a gaping hole after one wear?

And it’s also time to exchange our adorable ballet flats for snow boots. Those adorable boots that look SO good in the store?  Nope, they won’t do. We need traction. Suction-cup traction for those slippery sidewalks. We need thick, ugly, big-laced boots to trudge around the snow, ice, sleet, and freezing rain.  The uglier, the better!

Yep, it’s time for our most hideous clothing! Fleece-lined pants and down-stuffed vests and long johns and hat-head caps. Get them out of our mothball-smelling sweater chests, and onto our dry, itchy skin!  It’s time to get ugly and comfortable. See you later, necks and wrists! Farewell knees and ankles! Adios, razors and shaving cream!

It’s officially the ugly season! And my turtlenecks and I are going to have a heck of a winter.

* I, for one, still shave.  But then again, you’ll never know if I don’t.


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