what not to wear

No, not with Stacy and Clinton.

{ With my winter wardrobe. }

I feel like every year when the temperature starts to drop and the days start getting shorter I need to take a crash course in how to wear my winter accouterments again.

All my coats 

and my sweaters 

and my boots 

and my hats 

and my wool socks

and my flannels

and my gloves 

and my scarves.

I have to re-remember it all.

So far I'm still in denial.  I'm wearing my summer shirts underneath a layer or two of jackets.  I haven't gotten the courage to really break out the coats yet...

Because getting out the coats is the beginning of the end.  Once the coats come out the flip flops are gone for good until April, possibly May, and heaven forbid till June (I wouldn't put it past Utah to be that unforgiving).  Once the coats come out it's an acceptance of snow and cold and slush.

No, I can't get the coats out yet.

It really is this in-between time, right after fall and before winter and then perhaps the whole month of spring, that are the coldest times of the year.

Because this is when we won't accept the truth.

Even if the weather-man says it's supposed to be 60 degrees outside that day we rationalize with the fact that that's almost 70 degrees, and therefore my quarter-length sleeve cardigan will do just fine.  Besides the suns out anyway, so it really can't be that cold.

WRONG.

It is my acceptance of my denial that seems to be the first step to my recovery.

I'll start bundling up tomorrow.

The first day of November.

Darn.