Invasion of the Body Snatchers

The Christmas tree had not even been taken down when the first spring/summer catalogs appeared in my mailbox last week. With temps in the 30s, the work day starting and ending in the dark, and snow drifting in and out of the weekly forecasts, the last thing I wanted to see was gauzy skirts and camisoles and t-shirts with palm trees on them. They made me shiver and shrink in my skin. And after weeks of overeating and under-exercising, I sure didn’t appreciate the allure of bathing suits.

I’m sure some marketing genius believes that in the coldest days of winter, I’ll want to escape to the sunny pages of their catalog and be seduced by their bright colors and carefree vibe. They are SO wrong. Forget hot, sexy, and tan. My mind and my reality are a thousand miles away from that. I don’t’ want to buy shorts and tank tops--I want to bury my dietary and fitness indiscretions in my winter clothes, which are so tactile and so forgiving.

I love winter clothes and hate to give them up in the spring. I can’t resist the instant warmth of fleece, the coziness of a wool cardigan, the buttery nap of corduroy pants, the luxury of a camel hair coat, the sophisticated style of a tweed hat, and the down home comfort of an oversized sweatshirt.

Of course, my issues with summer clothes go beyond comfort and are compounded by my age. Sad to say, I am no longer a sweet young thing basking in all a sultry Southern summer has to offer. Gone are the good old days of bikinis and miniskirts, sundresses and tan lines.

Now I’m over 40 and a skin cancer “survivor” who avoids the harsh light of day like a vampire and ends up dressing like an orthodox nun, trying to keep everything under wrap. Freckles aren’t cute on me anymore, I live in terror of liver spots (!), and no one is going to see the spider veins on my legs.

Last August when many people were complaining about how the whole summer had been unseasonably cool and rainy, I was secretly happy. I got to wear my jeans, fleece, and jackets all summer long—it was perfect weather for V-Grrrl in the Middle of midlife.

© 2006 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved.

January 10, 2006

Comments

[V]

I still love the tank tops...I can't help it. My armpits love the freedom...:)
But I would see such a catalog as a cruel tease in the depths of winter....its just not right.

[V-Grrrl]

I love tank tops too. I wish they loved me back.

[TB]

As a fair skinned red head, I should probably adopt your attitude about the sun, but I love it. I do wear SPF 15 or above when I go out, but I love the feeling of the sun on my face and body, even if it doesn't look as good as it used to in sundresses, shorts and bikinis.

[Mignon]

Preaching to the choir, Grrrl. I think I love snowboarding because of the baggy uniform. I can wear slouchy, figure-hiding and warm gear *and* be hip.

[Brooke]

I do not love them, nor do they for me. It's a hate/hate relationship.

[Denice]

I live in Phoenix, bring it on! I don't know why I live here, honestly, I hate tanks, I hate my arms, legs, thighs, ass and stomach...I figure if I don't like them ,no one else does either.

I love capris and sandals though...but then I have to keep my feet looking respectable, it's a vicious cycle.

[Flubberwinkle]

Ahhh, sunny Greece. Too much sun. A goth's nightmare! (According to my teenage daughter!)
:-)
I hate to give up my winter clothes as well. Mostly because they are a wonderful excuse not to REALLY look at my body's disadvantages. Vgrrrl you have the right idea. The sun is no longer our friend.