New Englanders have a sense of fashion unparalleled by any other small geograhpically isolated collection of states in America. Of course, as with any other area, there are those worldly fashion trends rolling through New England like a Nor'Easter- leaving a path of cargo pants and Von Dutch hats in their wake- but there are also things here that are intrinsically, organically, positively New England. These items define our culture. And it just so happens that cold weather is our version of the main tent during fashion week. I like to think of it as fashionable functionality. Who can look the best
and still be warm when the temperature is below freezing and there's 3 feet of snow standing between you and a cup of Green Mountain Coffee Roasters? And so, here are 3 things in every New Englanders wardrobe: (and if you try to lie and say you don't have/never have had any of these items, I will embarass you in your place of work by bringing one or all of the items with your name written in indellible ink on the inside edge by your mother in 1990):
Bean Boots. I love Bean Boots. But really. Let's break this down. Is that an
inch heel back there? YES. And let me tell you that it has saved me from salty hems when I get into the office after a snow storm. I personally love the turned up toe and the choice between a navy blue or brown shoe. Thank goodness I have that choice- since clearly these boots will be worn in a way that I will intend for them to MATCH my outfits. Be honest, New England, your heart melts a little when you see a person wearing these shoes. It's like an inside joke with you and the rest of our humble region. You know beyond the shadow of a doubt that the wearer's feet are dry, warm and laughing at other fools wearing UGGS or Rain boots. 10 bonus points if you have the shearling-lined version.
There are two things about this vest that I would like to claim as New England's. First, the puffy vestness. I personally believe a puffy vest is an absolute necessity in a New Englanders wardrobe. (Plus 10 points if yours was originally made for some other purpose- like hunting quail or hiking Everest). On that day late in October when you're walking the dog, and maybe the wind has picked up on the Charles River but you're not quite ready to give in to your winter coat because, among other reasons, you know that you'll find a used tissue or a throat lozenge wrapper from last year in the pocket. That is when you pull out your puffy vest from its place in your closet- the puffy vest that you probably only wear less than or equal to five times a year because let's face it- it's either warm or freezing in New England. You walk Baxter confidently- but know in your heart that next time you'll have to succomb to the coat.
Next I'd like to talk about the fact that this vest is waxed cotton. Seriously shut up, I'm not going to say we invented waxed cotton in New England. All I'm saying is that we looooooveeee waxed cotton in the worst way. We are cheating on shearling with waxed cotton. According to David Morgan, a self-proclaimed expert on the subject: In the 1930's, the process of impregnating the cotton cloth with paraffin wax was developed. This produced a highly water resistant cloth, breathable, but without the stiffness and yellowing with age of the linseed oiled cloth. Whatever, David Morgan. It's cute. It doesn't get gross looking in the rain and I sound smart when I say "No no young lady from Ohio. This is Waxed Cotton."
Don't say it. I will not believe you if you say you didn't have one of these growing up. You loved to snap and un-snap those buttons around the collar and you always wondered what a person might keep inside the breast pocket besides Carmex. I hate to be the type to say that these are "back" because its my personal belief that they never went anywhere- but I see these everywhere now and I am so excited (even if they are paired with black spandex and Uggs). Since my parents insisted on buying mine no more than 10 and no less than 8 sizes too big, my original (read: orange with bright blue accents) Patagonia still fits. Versatile in every sense of the word, this gem is one of those things you wish they'd never try to improve over time. There you are, in your green and baby blue Patagonia at your alma mater's alumni field hockey game, the field is a little wet so maybe you're wearing your short Bean Boots and Baxter is tugging gently on his leash when you get asked if you'd like play for a few minutes in your old position. Oh no, you couldn't possibly- you object. But really- why yes, you could. And you do. And you've never felt more like a New Englander.
