Join The Conversation With Mishpacha's Weekly Newsletter

Winter Fashion Gets The Boot

Perel Grossman

It’s hard to be elegant in the winter. Think about it. Large, fuzzy hats pulled down over your ears, big clunky boots, ungainly gloves. And the final indignity: the chapping of the lips and the under-nose area.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Of course, for people like me, it is always challenging to look elegant. My idea of “getting fancy” involves changing out of my sneakers. But come December, my fashion barometer falls sharply. Witness the daily sprint to my children’s bus stop. I have seen women there, at the crack of dawn, in the bitter cold, in sheitels and heels. For shame.

Now, if I wanted to, I could look chic too. But I’m not a morning person. I’m just barely an afternoon person. In the pre-coffee crack of dawn, I’m tired, I’m freezing, I’m barely functioning, and I am not in the mood to doll up. It’s all I can do to fall out of bed, urge my son to get up, thrown something on, urge my son to get dressed, say my early morning tefillos, urge my son to put on his second sock, pack his lunch and put out his breakfast, urge my son to eat, sign his homework sheet, urge my son to eat more than one Cheerio at a time, throw coats on the both of us, and zoom to the bus stop. The last thing on my mind is style.

There I am, all snooded up, a multicolored scarf wrapped tightly around my neck, coat closed as much as the remaining buttons will allow, with rubbery black boots pulling the whole ensemble together. And no, those are not my pajamas sticking out under it all. It’s … umm … the layered look. It’s back.

Truth be told, there was a time when I was quite comfortable walking about in single-digit temperatures. This was due to the really toasty-warm, furry boots I once possessed [sigh]. Glamorous they weren’t. I tried to avoid being seen in them, but I would not give them up. If I met someone I knew, I’d start jogging briskly in place, hoping my feet would become such a blur that they wouldn’t notice my boots, or perhaps they’d assume that a couple of dead animals were innocently congregating around my feet.

Then, one day, a beloved relative stayed the night at our home. It was cold and snowy. She had no boots. Need I say more?


To read the rest of this story, please buy this issue of Mishpacha or sign up for a weekly subscription.

Share this page with a friend. Fill in the information below, and we'll email your friend a link to this page on your behalf.

Your name
Your email address
You friend's name
Your friend's email address
Please type the characters you see in the image into the box provided.

Arrogance Rewarded
Yonoson Rosenblum At Oberlin, victim status gives you privilege to pilfer
Hit or Miss?
Eytan Kobre Why are American Jews so intrigued by Shtisel?
Going Broke: The conversation continues, part 3
Mishpacha Readers "She should work on her confidence, not her wardrobe"
Work/Life Solutions with Ilan Regenbaum
Moe Mernick "Invest yourself fully into whatever you do"
Calling a Tail a Leg
Rabbi Emanuel Feldman It is not quite “an opportunity to use lifeboats”
Playing Defense
Baruch S. Fertel, MD, MPA, FACEP Trust your doctor. But only believe in Hashem
What Are You Playing Tonight?
Riki Goldstein "Hits are determined by the klal, not by producers"
The First Door to Open
Riki Goldstein “I would have taken that job for literally any price”
Leap of Faith
Faigy Peritzman The type of bitachon that’s expected of us
The Violent Child
Sarah Chana Radcliffe Ignore a child’s explosive temper? Not necessarily
Oasis in Time All’s Good at Shalosh Seudos
Mrs. Elana Moskowitz At Shalosh Seudos, our focus is on yichud with Hashem
Dear Kallah Teacher
Anonymous I wish I'd been told this wasn't normal