I’m not a native so I don’t quite know how it goes. But the dress code in Southern California in winter goes from a little to a lot when temperatures plummet to 62 degrees.
Wide ranging wardrobes
“A little” refers to the size of the clothing coverage. “A lot” refers to the level of layering. And, yes, I’m talking about winter in these parts, down a whopping 10 degrees from temperature averages for the rest of the year.
If you think 72 and sunny is the San Diego weather you can always expect, not so. It has been known to rain buckets in the city and chill residents to the bone in winter. But that same 62 degrees that freeze people here are the same 62 degrees that bring the planet to springtime everywhere else.
Here’s what people here wear in the cold-but mostly sunny-winter weather: Wool caps. Woolen scarves abound. A fur coat has been observed in the supermarket. Down jackets come out in droves. I’m a normally cold person, but those garbs would have me sweating in seconds. What may not be observed is the bikini that’s still worn underneath.
Hotties and stone-cold folks
There was a fellow crossing the street with a muff wrapped around his mouth and nose. He was obviously averting the freeze of his inhale. That or capturing the carbon dioxide coming out. I don’t know. One never really knows why Californians do what they do, but it sure looked like overkill for either 62 degrees or a polluting exhale.
On the same side of the street was the other end of the winter wardrobe range. A lovely, bronzed, youthful, feminine body strutted down the street in short shorts and a spaghetti-strap tee, held in place by two mounds of a surgeon’s silicon sculpture, if you get the picture.
This gal, by all measures, should have been cold but she didn’t show it. Her gait was steady and strong and, oh, so harmonic! And nary an eye paused on the beautiful body, because in Southern California, scantily clad drop-dead gorgeous beings are standard. It’s just that the weather was odd in this case.
She crossed the street at the light, right along with the guy with the muff over his mouth.
A cold 62 degrees
For myself, I’ll admit puzzlement at being cold at 62 degrees. It must be that they are 62 winter degrees. That, or I’m beginning to become a bona fide, thin-blooded Southern Californian, suffering the ravages of 62-degree cold under the palms. While my bikini has been retired for other reasons, I am wearing three layers of wool, fleece, and flannel under my Armani tank top.
Oh, my gosh. If I’m becoming a Californian, I hope California politics doesn’t rub off on me too!