There is something very strange about the American indoors for a European such as myself and here is what it is: on a random hot Silicon Valley summer day my family might decide to have dinner in a nearby restaurant. I am in shorts and sleeveless T-shirt so I go to my closet and get a pair of long pants, a T-shirt with sleeves and a cardigan. I also pack a jacket for my son and ask him to put on socks.
I am not crazy, I am just going to a restaurant with air-conditioning which will be keeping the room at a nice and steady 60 degrees Fahrenheit which for me, especially when sitting instead of moving, is right around the temperature where my toes start to lose any feeling and any uncovered spot of skin shows a serious case of goose-bumps.
Fast forward to winter – not that dramatic in lovely California – so let’s fast forward to winter in Boston, where I used to live. It is cold, so you layer: underwear, t-shirt, sweater, maybe cardigan and a down jacket, hat, gloves, two pairs of socks and lined boots. Then you walk, let’s say to the next T station (subway), enter and proceed more than 10 steps form the entrance where you start ripping the down jacket off. By the time you get to the platform and then into the train you will have ripped off pretty much every piece of clothing that can be ripped off without getting the police involved and sweat is running down your back. As you leave the subway the process reverses itself at a frantic pace; sweater over the head, cardigan on, down jacket on top, sweat running down the back and then the onslaught of cold air. Five minutes later you enter the office building and start peeling of again in a lovely 80 degree environment.
I have never quite understood why we have to have winter temperatures in summer and summer temperatures in winter. If I have to sweat, I’d prefer to sweat in summer. If I have to freeze, then winter would be the time to do so. It would save a lot of energy and I wouldn’t have to have my entire wardrobe available year around.