So, It's Your First Time In A Frozen Hellscape

I grew up and attended college in solid temperate zones with four distinct seasons — summer, fall, winter, and mud. I took it for granted that everyone had at least one wind-and-waterproof coat and snow pants. And then, during my unseasonably cold college orientation week, I met Sienna.

Sienna was from Texas. More fashionable than I’d ever be, and more acclimated to heat than I thought possible, Sienna and I made an odd couple of orientation roommates, but friendly ones. The third morning of orientation week, we woke up to frost on the windows.

I grabbed long underwear to put under my jeans for the day’s hike. Sienna watched me, and then put on two pairs of yoga pants, one after the other. I grabbed my coat out of a duffel I hadn’t intended to unpack for at least another month, and she grabbed hers — a brand new coat, with the tags still on it.

It was all wrong.

I could tell right away that she was going to be miserable, despite the stunning purple faux-fur collar. Her coat wasn’t lined with anything warm, didn’t have a wind or waterproof exterior, and was clearly going to tear the first time she snagged it on a branch or bush.

She saw me gaping and put her hands in her pockets with a self-conscious hunch. “What?” she asked.

I didn’t know how to answer.

The story ends well — she did the hike in multiple sweatshirts and didn’t suffer a bit, and the next day, I took her to the thrift store where we found her a gently-used winter parka with stunning neon green accents and an outer shell that would’ve taken her up Mt. Everest. Two years later, she passed me on the green in the middle of a lovely snowfall, still wearing that coat, and called it, “the most ugly, shapeless, priceless thing I own.”

It obviously wasn’t Sienna’s fault that she wasn’t prepared for the weather. I’d have been just as clueless if we’d been headed into a semester in Texas. I’m sure she’d have been tempted to laugh at my wardrobe choices, and maybe taken me to buy a solid pair of walking sandals.

Some of you are about to be thrust into your very first or second deep freeze, and it’s not your fault you’re a little off kilter. (In fact, if you’re reading this at all, congrats on still having power and/or internet!) If I could, I’d take you all to buy good coats, but in the absence of that, here’s a few things you’ll want to know right now:

1. Layers, layers, layers. Here's a chart of the best fabrics to wear:

Wool is better than Silk.

Silk is better than Synthetics.

Synthetic is better than Waffled Cotton.

Waffled cotton is better than Regular cotton.

That said, if you have anything that’s got that waffled fabric, wear that closest to your skin — it’ll help wick moisture away. The next best is anything synthetic — rayon, polyester. Cotton is your worst choice. You’ll see why that’s important in a second. If you have anything wool — socks, sweater — make that a priority.

1. Moisture is the enemy. Wet skin means cold skin. Wet clothes mean cold clothes. That means if you’re sweating, it might feel good and warm for now, but as soon as you stop moving, you’re going to get uncomfortably, even dangerously cold. Clothes that get sweaty are wet clothes. (Cotton holds moisture close and stays wet, unlike wool, silk, or synthetics.) Clothes that get SNOWY are wet clothes. Change out of wet clothes IMMEDIATELY. If you’re out of dry clothes, get naked and get under the blankets. It’s safer to be dry than to be warm.
2. Focus on the big three: your feet, your hands, and your head. Your fingers and toes are the most vulnerable bits of you. They’re first to go numb (and first, as any ancient Vermonter might show you) to fall off. If you can’t feel your toes, go inside, take your shoes off, check your socks to make sure they’re dry, and rub your toes vigorously between your palms until they’re red and tingling. Wear a hat. You’ll be shocked at how much heat you lose through the top of your head and the difference a hat makes. Don’t have mittens? Wear socks on your hands. Not kidding.
3. Don’t drive. I lived in a not-snowy area for some years, and spent a lot of time poking fun at the drivers. But I came from a place where sand, salt, and plows made up a huge chunk of every city budget. In this city, there was one plow for the same number of streets that would’ve gotten five plows in my hometown. Sand and salt were practically nonexistent. I’m a good winter driver — I can regain control of my car in a skid, and I know how to safely maneuver over ice and snow. I am NOTHING against a city with ice on the roads and nothing to fight it. STAY. HOME.
4. Get cozy. Body heat — human or animal — is this wonderful, generative thing. When there are two of you, you make more heat together than the combined heat of two bodies on opposite ends of the couch. Suck it up and cuddle up. Stick your cold hands in each others’ armpits, where it’s toastiest. (If you’re that kind of cozy, holding someone’s hands between your thighs will work well, too.)
5. Eat more. You don’t want to waste your body’s energy trying to keep you warm without enough fuel. You need more food when it’s cold out. Eat well, and eat regularly. Fat is good. Sugar is important. Salt, too.

I don’t envy the position you’re in right now. I imagine it feels dreadfully uncomfortable and more than a little unnerving. But take it from me — I promise, this doesn’t last forever.

Mud season’s gotta show up at some point. And you’re gonna want boots for that.