Today would be the ultimate test of my dress-wearing stunt. I already gave up on the nightgown, but only because it tore in the armpit and I think Arlene would rather I slept in matching pink pajamas than in a torn nightie.
But today I had to spend two hours out on a frozen lake, covering the Polar Bear Jump for the paper. This is one of Ian and I’s big assignments every year; we plan part of our Christmas around getting warm clothes and accessories for the other just in preparation for these two hours. I didn’t even realize it was this weekend until I’d already committed to this stunt, but I had a plan . . . and better still, I had a dress.
Silk undershirt, thermal shirt, black wool dress. Under Armor tights, cashmere socks, felted wool socks, galoshes. Hot Hands, Boot Warmers. Scarf, coat, gloves, wool beret. I couldn’t put my arms down, but at least I would be warm.
And for awhile, I was. It’s impossible to stay toasty for two hours in 22 degree weather while standing on ice, but hey, at least I wasn’t jumping in freezing cold water . . . again.