Fools Rush In
Three guys we spotted around this time last year in Bryant Park on a 50°F day
Every year, when that first taste of Spring hits, a few things inevitably occur. Our conversation in the elevator with that guy whose name escapes us from that department we don’t know what does turns from bitching about the slush to daydreaming about the beach. Our skin, accustomed to months of wool overcoats and thick scarves, begins to remember how awesome a little sunlight can feel. And then a frenzy takes over.
Bands of well-intentioned folks storm their summer closets in search of thong sandals, cut-off shorts, and breezy t-shirts. They’re an exhibitionist breed, wholly intent on you seeing their Vitamin-D deprived toes and farmers tans. They walk the streets proudly, heads raised, like they know something you don’t. And no matter how hard they try to convince you they’re not freezing their asses off, the goosebumps on their arms say it all: They’ve rushed the seasons.
Look, we’re not saying your wardrobe shouldn’t be modified. On a day like today, around 60°F in New York, the right cardigan, leather jacket, or wool suit will get you by just fine without a bulky topcoat. But shedding your layers prematurely is just about as cool as going for the kill on the first date and getting shut down. The time will come, but it’s not right now. Dust yourself off, be patient, and for God’s sake, put on some damn clothes!