So far, this winter has been a menopausal rip-off. At the risk of confirming my complete insanity, I will say that the weather here in North Carolina has been… too warm.
As I mentioned back in What Not to Wear: The Menopause Edition, I’ve been having my own personal global warming crisis. Having three delicate temperature settings, warm, warmer, and get the hell out of my way I need to put my head in the freezer, I looked forward to the winter of 2011-12 with deep yearning.
Alas, my hunger for cooling relief is unfulfilled. Here in coastal Carolina, we have had frost. We’ve had one night in the twenties. But daytime temps have been in the 50s, 60s, and 70s.
I’ve had to scrape some frost off my car windshield 3 times. By the afternoon commute, I am BLASTING THE AIR CONDITIONER IN MY CAR. Peeps, I weep. You may cry for me, Argentina.
I wear summer t-shirts. I wear cotton pants. If I could keep my legs shaved on a more reliable basis, I would wear skirts to get a bit more air… up there.
My fashion-forward girlfriends wear slimming, dark tights, sweet cashmere sweaters, cute boots. I gaze at them in hopeless admiration. On the few cool-ish days when the non-menopausal wear fur-trimmed coats right in step with today’s styles, I wear a cotton hoodie, open to catch a breeze. Sometimes I take the hoodie off and tie it around my waist, keeping one eye open for a photographer from the Glamour magazine fashion “don’t” page.
Trying to find the silver (non-down filled) lining, I am thankful that local heating bills will be lower, the camellias are blooming with riotous abandon, the woodland creatures need not shiver. I won’t be a selfish, mean-spirited, menopausal crank.
For at least the next five minutes.