Of Cold Weather
Today I acquired a winter coat. Not just a coat, you see, but a winter coat. These are a rare sight in London, partly because the capital is afflicted by a random amalgamation of meteorological phenomena, but lacks weather in the cyclical sense. Seasons in southern England are more of a cultural hallucination, a collective barometrical longing, than an actual physical manifestation. It also doesn’t help that English people have a penchant for wearing sandals in the face of - let’s face it - entirely inappropriate weather conditions. Maybe they haven’t got the hang of the whole Fahrenheit-Celsius conversion yet. Well, if they’re not careful, they might soon become accidental metric martyrs . In Denmark, where I spent part of my formative years, this just doesn’t happen. The weather is far less forgiving there. So you’re worried about hat hair? Well, leave the beanie behind at your own risk, and you’ll soon have no head attached to your neck, let alone hair. Frostbite can be so inconvenient. Besides, winter clothing can be beautiful too, as illustrated by my lovely blutsgeschwister coat
Well, do you think Shackleton went to the Arctic in a pair of Havainas?
Pocket detail
‘Have you seen the woman in the Moon?’ German legend inside the hood. Could it be a reference to Fritz Lang’s science fiction classic ‘Frau im Mond’?
