I am going to Portland, OR later this week, to visit friends. My friend Mike, said "it's 100˚ up here, dress light". When did leaving Los Angeles for Portland become a trip to the tropics?
When I moved here from Toronto, Canada, I was so done with 5 foot snow drifts and long dark nights filled with the sound of crunching ice under tires. What I didn't realize was that I also hated hot weather. My perfect spot would be in a cave at 72˚ with a slight breeze.
Los Angeles as the Two Season Fashion Statement
Since moving here, I have become accustomed to gauging the seasons by the slight temperature change and by my layers of sweaters. For 6 months I am able to wear a light sweater, which then is shed for t-shirts and tank tops. Rarely do I ever have to drag out the winter coat I bought on sale at Macy's, I even have the coat I moved down here with from Toronto. I am hoping shoulder pads come back, if they do, I have a coat that I can wear with pride (minus a snicker or two).
Put the Air On
Air Conditioning was foreign to me, up in Toronto, we sweated out the humidity of the summers by moving really slow and taking any political stance to avoid arguing. Down here in Los Angeles, I had to learn to work the AC with finesse. Not too low, not too high, just enough to not bust the electric bill. The other day at a stoplight I looked over at the car next to me, and the driver's long blond hair was whipping around in the full blast of her AC. It was a surreal moment, stopped car, windows closed, windstorm inside.
It's Not Real
Los Angeles is just like that stopped car, even when we don't look like we are moving anywhere, we are, via a machine powered illusion of coolness. I love Los Angeles because of that allusion, I am here drifting in and out of hot and cold air, enjoying the real and unreal, a lovely combination that can't be found anywhere else.
Image: Ophelia Chong
Los Angeles as the Two Season Fashion Statement
Since moving here, I have become accustomed to gauging the seasons by the slight temperature change and by my layers of sweaters. For 6 months I am able to wear a light sweater, which then is shed for t-shirts and tank tops. Rarely do I ever have to drag out the winter coat I bought on sale at Macy's, I even have the coat I moved down here with from Toronto. I am hoping shoulder pads come back, if they do, I have a coat that I can wear with pride (minus a snicker or two).
Put the Air On
Air Conditioning was foreign to me, up in Toronto, we sweated out the humidity of the summers by moving really slow and taking any political stance to avoid arguing. Down here in Los Angeles, I had to learn to work the AC with finesse. Not too low, not too high, just enough to not bust the electric bill. The other day at a stoplight I looked over at the car next to me, and the driver's long blond hair was whipping around in the full blast of her AC. It was a surreal moment, stopped car, windows closed, windstorm inside.
It's Not Real
Los Angeles is just like that stopped car, even when we don't look like we are moving anywhere, we are, via a machine powered illusion of coolness. I love Los Angeles because of that allusion, I am here drifting in and out of hot and cold air, enjoying the real and unreal, a lovely combination that can't be found anywhere else.
Image: Ophelia Chong
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Note from Portland:
Yep it's hot. However it is a dry heat so it doesn't feel as bad as when it's humid. And it is summer.
Don't forget your tank top and a light sweater for evening.