Although we’ve experienced a basically very mild Winter, the days and weeks of true Winter that we have had have been… painful (an opinion that I haven’t cared to keep silent). When my seven or three year old inquire as to why I have to ask my husband to start my car ANYtime I leave the house between the months of November and April, his standard response to them is “because Mama is afraid of the cold”… which is… well, basically true.
However awful the cold is, there are some great things it brings in the world of fashion:
- Hats… namely the ability to gracefully cover an unwashed (for like 5 straight days) head of hair with a crazy orange stocking cap that fully covers all inches of greasy hair and actually look kind of cool and edgy while walking around in the mall
- Scarves… which disguise a multitude of holiday-weight gain flaws – namely muffin-top and pouchy stomach
- Suede shoes (although, ironically, also not fans of the elements)
- Tall Leather boots (which could arguably also be successfully fashionably prevalent with much more appealing, more Autumnal weather)
In keeping with the bottom two bullets, and in an effort to avoid the impending dismay regarding the cold weather, I have spent considerable time contemplating my shoes in the recent months. By accident, I fell madly in love with Vince Camuto earlier this Winter, as a result of my recent unrelated purchases of two pairs of trendy wardrobe “staples” in the footwear department. Shortly after said purchases, I fell in love with the line’s new fragrance ::insert subtle hint to husband here::. It was only by happenstance that I realized, a few weeks ago, that all three of my new favorite things came from the same designer.
The day after I made my Vince Camuto affection connection, it snowed and I found myself out with all three slightly feverish children at a doctor’s visit, hoping for a diagnosis of something that could be killed with antibiotics. After struggling to the car from our front door and then into the clinic from our car, I was completely sweating and wondering how many people have pulled or strained at least one muscle while enrobed in slippery winter apparel and also trying to carry polyester/nylon clad small children wearing 10 pound boots.
When finally my three children and I, each wearing winter coats, scarves, hats, mittens and a total of 57 pounds winter boots were checked in with the front desk, I realized that people were actually staring at us. After checking to make sure that my very unwashed hair was tucked into my stocking cap and ensuring my coat was zipped up to my chin (thereby ensuring that the smell of my poor hygiene was NOT leaking out and attacking their noses), I was mildly annoyed by the looks and titters, which was only perpetuated by the fact that I was perspiring like crazy after the haul into the clinic and the compounding warmth of my grease and odor-hiding attire.
As I contemplated the cause for amusement of our onlookers, I felt the vent below me kick on, prompting even profuse perspiration. I wiggled my feet in my gigantic boots and wondered if I had wool/heat-induced hives on my forehead. I glanced at my kiddos who had happily strewn coats, hats, mittens, even overshirts all about the waiting room and were playing in pajamas and boots. I clomped around the waiting room in my 7,000 pound boots and grumbled silently about my perspiration and the stares… I mean, seriously, I reasoned - this is winter in the MIDWEST – people walk around looking like bank robbers all winter just to avoid frostbite while they get their mail… I had three sick kids in the middle of winter in the doctor’s waiting room and hadn’t showered in days. Everything about this image seemed completely normal to me. I glanced up at my three kids, now all mushed together in a chair, reading a book together and smiled. Despite the sweat and struggle and miserable cold and seemingly corresponding debut of viruses and ear infections, this was a moment to savor.
As I took in the scene, I glanced down to the feet of each child, gigantic in comparison with their pj-clad bodies, due to the fact they were each still wearing a unique color of rubber-toed, insulated and garishly heavy, laced boot. Although a far cry from the elegance and style I have come to love in Vince Camuto’s line, there is something indelibly beautiful and sweet about three pairs of previously summer-grubby feet turned white and clean and now covered with a version of the boots that elicit memories of my childhood.
The bitter cold of Winter is awful and terrible and downright depression-inducing, but children in snow and snow apparel is inarguably amazing and the images of them feels a lot like the life and vigor that is missing from the previously green fields and vibrantly colored gardens. Despite my Wintery and cold-weather complaints, I do not think I could ever trade the moments struggling in slippery coats and injury-inducing boots for year-round warm weather bliss; these moments in bitter cold and dreary outdoor temperatures induce discovery of life moments and images that are precious and fresh-perspective giving… amused onlookers and all.