Let That Fever Play
Dear Refinery 29,
I've been trying to recreate or at least reinterpret your (always interesting, sometimes delightful, occasionally troubling) 31 AWESOME OUTFITS TO COPY ALL JULY LONG, with some success. However, this is Boston's third wave since summer began and I find the suggestion of "summer" scarves and blazers untenable. I come from Planet San Francisco, where Julys are notoriously cold and only foolish tourists wander about without multiple layers.
The fog does beautiful, frigid things, and when I lived there the idea of a summer scarf in July was a whole different kind of joke, as in "a fur coat is more appropriate tonight than it was in February."
Which brings me to...
It would seem I've gone from one extreme to another. I'm not going to lie, I put these pants on before we got ourselves a 12,000 BTU air conditioning unit and it. was. truly. disgusting. I was really committed to wearing them, though. I'd said I would. It was Monday night and I was meeting M for dinner after work in Cambridge to try a fancy little place we'd never been to, Catalyst. The walk from the parking garage to the restaurant was so hot and humid and sticky and gross that I maybe checked out my own ass in a window reflection to make sure there was no butt sweat on my awesome Theory trousers. (There wasn't. Definitely.)
The paper-thin striped linen tee from F21 was no help, either. It was kind of a be-naked-or-don't-even-bother-showering day. As far as we can see, they'll continue through Saturday. Anyway, here is a really delightfully written, albeit slightly dated piece about summers in NYC before air conditioning from The New Yorker. We're talking the late 1920s.
"There were still elevated trains then, along Second, Third, Sixth, and Ninth Avenues, and many of the cars were wooden, with windows that opened. Broadway had open trolleys with no side walls, in which you at least caught the breeze, hot though it was, so that desperate people, unable to endure their apartments, would simply pay a nickel and ride around aimlessly for a couple of hours to cool off. As for Coney Island on weekends, block after block of beach was so jammed with people that it was barely possible to find a space to sit or to put down your book or your hot dog."
I really meant to wear a block heel. And use my wicker clutch from J. Crew instead of this cognac leather one from HOBO Intl. But these nude Vince Camuto pumps do nicely and anyway, just look at that magical sunset over the Charles River near the Harvard Stadium. It's a show-stopper!