Life in Minus Degrees

Heading to work yesterday

There are sentences I never thought I would ever hear myself say – “do you have an extra small in this dress” to a Japanese sales assistant, “no I meant a cola” somewhere in Argentina and “excuse me when's the resurrection?” at the Holy land theme park, Buenos Aires (resurrection every half hour at the weekends.) Two days ago I added another to this list.   It was a bright Friday morning, the sun was out.  At the university J was waiting for me, ready for our Friday outing (teaching in a mineral processing company out in the middle of nowhere which we variously term Wernham Hogg or Button Moon.)  As I got into the car I remarked at how mild the morning was only to look at the temperature gage which read -1.  Mild at -1! By the time we got to the company a howling wind had rendered the temperature to somewhere around -6 – seriously effin cold.  This last week in Treviso temperatures have hovered around the zero or below mark and to my happy at 30 degrees self, life has been tough. It’s not just the temperature that makes life difficult with winds and high humidity it feels like the cold penetrates you so deeply that even when you do get into a warm interior the cold stays with you for ages. 

The waterwheel ices up

I always remember the European February as being a difficult month to get through.  The euphoria of Christmas and New Year long gone, icy streets, winter temps taking a further tilt downwards and living in a Britain that never seemed to be able to get its collective head around the concept that snow in winter is not a freak occurrence.  From memory there really was nothing much you could do, save wait for spring and the rain to start.  I’ve always found the cold difficult and winter does see me hibernating (I maintain that I was meant to be born in a hot country) and after so long in Australia I was seriously unprepared for a European winter.  Everyone said to me that your first Trevisan winter is the hardest and I think I understand why.  Once you’ve frozen your way through your first you’re gonna make sure you’re seriously ready for the second and get yourself kitted out with hats, gloves, scarves, piuminos, boots, thick socks, and jumpers.  When I arrived here at the tail end of last winter I had two coats, my Melbourne winter number and something lighter for the between seasons if you look at my wardrobe today you will now see six – yes six coats all of which serve a purpose at different temperatures (ok I admit the peacoat was an indulgence but in my defence I have wanted one for years.)

    

and for the curious - The resurrection begins

With temperature so low Treviso has been a strange place, the streets are unusually quiet.  Bars are half full and people who do venture out scurry to get themselves to the warmth of wherever they are going.  Bizarrely we haven’t seen any snow the weather forecasters have predicted it and the clouds have threatened it but there's been nothing, bar a few flakes.  While the rest of Europe seemed blanketed in the stuff our little area of Italy, for now remains snow free which doesn’t bother me I always hate it when things grind to a halt as soon as you get a dusting of snow.  There are positives to all of this, I have got through a sizable stack of reading, the weather is perfect to indulge in steaming hot cups of thick, you have to eat with a spoon, hot chocolate and fritelle (balls of deep fried goodness filled with cream or zabaglione that accompany carnival.) It won’t be long till the temperatures start rising but for now I’m in semi hibernation.

      

I give up

It’s a micro climate I’m told, the strange combination of factors that has resulted in this part of the world being meltingly hot in the summer and blisteringly cold in the winter with ridiculous levels of humidity throughout the year.  The hot and humid weather never really bothers me but cold is something I live in fear of.  Get temperatures into single figures and I become the kind of person that lives up to the whinging stereotype that me adopted home holds of British people.  Winter in the Veneto has always been this looming event whose inevitable arrival I have dreaded.  Not just for the cold and humid temperatures that bite through you or the bitter winds that smack you in the face but the knowledge that I can either suffer stoically through the event or start dressing for the weather.  And here lies the problem.

Melbourne gets pretty cold and normally the arrival of the winter months is seen as a opportunity and I look forward to the twice yearly ritual of the wardrobe turnaround when you put wash and put away the t-shirts and summer dresses and pull out the jumpers and thick socks that you haven’t seen for the last five or six months.  I see the cooler months as an opportunity to dress better given that you are required to wear so many more clothes.  When I say Melbourne gets cold I mean Melbourne gets cold for Australia and here with the ever lowering thermometer suddenly my winter clothes look stupidly thin.  Recently everyone seems to be concerned with my preparedness to cope with a Trevisan winter.  I’ve often been asked if I have a warm coat and you know I actually thought I did.  But of late my usual Melbourne winter coat while being ultra stylish in its modern minimalist aesthetic is proving painfully inadequate and I have been forced to consider alternatives. 

When the first signs of cold weather appeared Trevisans en masse (I’m not sure if there is a set date for this or if the Trevisans have some kind of sartorial telepathy) pulled out their puminos.  A pumino is a big puffy, padded coat that while keeping you snug does run the danger of making you look like the Michelin man.  For a while it seemed as if every shop window was full these monster coats.  If like me you don’t particularly like the pumino there is a popular alternative – fur.  Here there doesn’t seem to be any stigma or controversy about wearing animal pelts and I’ve never seen so many women in fur.  Now obviously I’m not going to wear fur so it looks like the pumino is my only option if I’m going to get through the winter.  Unfortunately being short (I make pygmies look tall) and svelte not being an adjective you would use to describe me I look pretty stupid in one of these big puffy numbers.  I also think they’re pretty ugly so the prospect of owning one is quite distressing. 

Winter 2011/2 Big, puffy coat and gumboots

Get one, wear it through the winter and then put it at the back of your wardrobe and forget about it until you need it again was the advice I was given and it was with this in mind that I went out in search of a pumino.  I quickly realised that if I was to be warm I would have to give up any notions of style – these coats just look stupid on me.  They’re not cheap either and when push came to shove I couldn’t face the thought of spending 100+ euros on something that made me look like a cross between the stay puft marshmallow man and a sleeping bag.  I’ve never really thought of myself as a fashonista preferring to dress for comfort and mood rather than the latest trends yet I surprised myself by being prepared to suffer the cold to avoid the marshmallow look.  That was until the temps really started dropping and I soon realised that I am prepared to sacrifice a bit of style to the greater good of being warm.  I was hoping to ride it out until the sales kicked in post Christmas but no luck, it’s just too cold to wait.  Still being tight fisted or prudent enough not to spend my hard earned money on something that will render me a visual joke I’ve borrowed one from M.  Yes it’s super warm and puffy and yes I am giving up on style – for the next few months at least.