Earmuffs: A heated defense
If you have curly, wavy or carefully-coiffed hair, a conventional winter hat is the enemy: you will suffer hat head.
Taking off your hat is like unveiling a homely monument, every flaw displayed. Women in restaurants, hands tugging at their hair, inevitably resign themselves to a disheveled mess.
So, I wear earmuffs. I walked into an upscale boutique last week and was told by the saleswoman, "My, I haven't seen a grown woman in earmuffs in a long time."
At moments like this one must summon self-esteem of steel.
I was wearing the sportier sheepskin variety in black.
You can order them (join me, I need help here) from Shepherd's Flock, a Vermont maker; you'll find lofty choices in both sheep-naturals and colours like navy, pink and wine from $13 to $30.
|Shepherd's Flock sheepskin muffs|
What else is light but warm? (Lightness is essential, but so is space, to prevent compressing hair.) Cashmere beats anything else.
|Bompard cashmere beret|
|Golightly cashmere beret|
Golightly Cashmere's beret–in two circumferences–is $105. (Note: Any Golightly hat, though produced to order, can be returned.)
I can think of–and reject–other ideas; a folded silk scarf is too easily damaged and slips off in wind.
Going hatless, the choice of teens? No fun once you've suffered frostbitten lobes.
So earmuffs it is.
|Foxy fox muffs|
If any earmuff might change the saleswoman's perception, a pair of ruby fox ones with a velvet flower, by Cassin (price, $395) from Bergdorf Goodman ought to do it.
The earmuffs of a queen, let alone a grown woman.