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I could obviously be going for the more metaphoric idea that NYC challenges you in every way you could dream of. And although that’s true, what I’m getting at today is that no matter the season, I am always sweating.

Summer is straightforward: warm weather, lots of concrete, and high humidity all make for some very sweaty New Yorkers. But the winter, you ask?

It’s also simple. I am dressed for the freezing (more like 40 degree) temperatures that greet me each morning. That’s tights, socks (maybe 2 on each foot), boots, down coat, cozy scarf, gloves, and a hat. That way I am a reasonable temperature when I am not indoors. But that purgatory between in- and outdoors, also referred to as our beloved public transit, is where most sweating occurs for me. Especially in the winter.

My boyfriend laughed at me for a good 10 minutes when he noticed me sweating profusely in the first week of December. Perhaps I’m not doing it right.

Anyway, this is how bundled I am in the dead of winter (December 7th) when I am dragged out of hibernation.

Clarisse, Claire, Aly

Clarisse, Claire, and Aly bundled up for a night December

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