The end of August/beginning of September is probably the most miserable time in Louisiana and one of the most amusing. We have all struggled through Summer and are ready for it to leave us alone. We have spent months making strategic fashion decisions.
Pants: Are they linen? If the answer is no, then they are out. Are they Jeans? Yes. Then that’s a Hell I don’t need. Within 2 minutes you will be trudging along in waterlogged torture devices that have their death grips on you and you may have 2 more minutes before you crumple to the ground in a ball of despair and exhaustion.
Shorts: can they pass for fancy shorts? Is that a thing? Screw it! It is now. Business casual will have to adjust to me. Okay, these are definitely not appropriate for work but can they be worn out of the house? The level of comfort they provide is equal to how much you can’t wear them out in public.
Dresses and shirts: They come down to fabric and sleeve length. Is this a sweating after 30 minutes or 5minutes, fabric. Sweat is inevitable. What is important is how long you have between in air-conditioned rooms before you get the distinctive pits and the not so amusing smiley face sweat rings under your boobs.
Sleeve length is based usually on your level of bingo arms. Ladies not new to the word will usually avoid the dreaded tank top. You know what I am talking about ladies. We start with the quarter sleeve and slowly move up the arm as the temperature rises.
Skirts: luckily are a safe zone except for the fabric choice. If it’s not light and flowing, to the back of the closet you go. See you in fall, just kidding we know fall here falls closer to winter.
Shoes: Now that’s the most complicated. You would think it would be easy, sandals and open-toed shoes. It’s not that easy. It’s all based on where you are going and for how long. Sandals are great until you meet an ant pile or it decides to monsoon in the middle of the day while the sun still shines. This results in a steamy wet ground that a sandaled foot can be nowhere near. Between bugs and muddy bogs they are a lost cause, you might as well go barefoot. The sweat factor also rears its ugly head. There is nothing worse than a pair of summer shoes that form puddles of moisture under your feet forcing you to figure out how not to slip around inside your own shoes and look like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time. Most of your cute booties and heels sit on the rack gathering dust. Usually, I find a couple pair of shoes that can get me through the last months of summer and just longingly look at my abandoned ladies promising them One day I will return.
Something changes at the end of August. All of the sudden pictures of bubbling gumbo fill social media and you can smell the rebellion in the air. The heat hits its pinnacle and I think somehow slowly all of Louisiana begins to say I have had enough. If you are not going to change then I’m going to block you out or break all the fashion laws. You start seeing women in skinny jeans and booties., you know they have to be miserable but it’s like they can’t take the summer telling them what to do anymore. The other side is how many are now breaking all the rules of “appropriate dress”. They are wearing all the tank tops, get a good look at those bingo arms waving in the non-existent wind. Shorts, now have the rule of: Are there giant holes in them? No. Then on they go. I am part of the latter group. I respect both though. I love the ladies that say screw you societal norms. it’s hot and I am done. As long as I am not naked or in my pajamas, comfort is king. Summer can suck it and so can you. If you don’t like it don’t look.
On the other hand, I have mad respect for the ladies that completely block out the temperature gauge. They are wearing their favorite clothes no matter what. Today is 102 degrees. That’s your problem I am wearing my cute jeans, my new leather booties and drinking my pumpkin spiced lattes. Summer does not tell them what to do. Not anymore summer your tyrannical rule is over!
Maybe it’s the heat that causes the madness. Our brains have finally melted into puddles of denial. We have become so delusional from the months of constant pain like some sort of form of water drip torture and all we have left are thoughts of comforting things. Like magic though it works. All the gumbo steam joins together and forms a storm in the gulf that brings lower temperatures. Unfortunately, it can also bring hurricanes and daunting humidity but hey this is not a perfected magic and the results can be temperamental. I think this part of the year is when we all come together the most. It’s like for a short time we all feel each other’s pain and support whatever you need to get through. You want to eat gumbo in your stretched out shorts and flip-flops or in your tight jeans and new boots? Then you do it. We are all just trying to get out of here alive at this point. You know that anybody that has spent a summer in the Deep South will always have the late August prisoner kinship. So much so that I can look at someone who’s from here and say this is almost as miserable as a 3 o’clock rain in August and they will
Just smile and nod there head knowing exactly what I am talking about.
P.S. I know that everybody has their version of miserable times of the year, this is just our version.
I will choose to believe you about the cold hard winters in the North because this Southern girl probably wouldn’t last a day.
Sorry boys, you will have to write your own version I only know the ladies side.