Weathering outerwear

Like most Shoals women, I love clothes and fashion and shopping for new shoes, but when it comes to outerwear — all those jackets, coats, boots and other weather protection we’re supposed to have — I get lost.

For instance, you know all those books and magazine articles that tell you how to build a classically versatile perfect-for-any-occasion wardrobe?

The ones that recommend all-weather trench coats to get you through any climate change?

Well, how many women in the Shoals do you see actually wearing classically versatile trench coats?

Not many.

That’s because Shoals women have to build versatile outerwear wardrobes that will get them from 100 degrees and muggy to 10 degrees and freezing, with rain, sleet, snow, dirt, mud and pollen thrown in for fun.

Not easy.

Now, don’t get me wrong.

I love trench coats. In fact, I have three of them —thank you, discount stores and clearance racks — that I bought because I love pictures of women in magazine ads dashing through airports with expensive luggage or sipping espresso at sidewalk cafes who are wearing casually chic trench coats.

The trouble is, I rarely dash through airports, my luggage is a 15-year-old beat-up black suitcase with a broken zipper, and I drink most of my espresso at my kitchen table wearing dingy T-shirts.

Besides, every time I think I might want to wear one of my (cute and inexpensive) trench coats, it’s either too hot or too cold, or I put it on and wonder what in the world I was thinking and what the heck am I supposed to do with this stupid belt, and who said I had to have a trench coat anyway?

People who don’t live in the Shoals, that’s who.

So let’s correct that right now.

In the interest of coat-challenged women like me, let’s try to create a Shoals-centric outerwear wardrobe that will get us from University of North Alabama football games to church on Sunday mornings to PEO meetings to margarita night with our girlfriends.

We’ll work from the bottom up.

w First, boots. Of course you’ve got some rocking boots in your closet (boot day — the first day in the fall that’s cool enough to officially wear boots — is celebrated throughout the Shoals), but you don’t want to wear your $185 beauties out in the rain and sleet and (every once in awhile) snow. Believe me.

Hike over to an outdoors store and invest in lightweight waterproof hiking boots. Your feet will stay warm and dry, and as a bonus, you’ll look incredibly cool, like you’ve got a backpack in your car and you may head out to the Appalachian Trail at any second.

Alternatively, consider a pair of insulated and waterproof comfy suede fleece-lined boots — but choose carefully since most versions of this popular boot are not waterproof. And avoid those tempting brightly colored rain galoshes — or buy them for home décor purposes only. After all, you didn’t want to wear them in first grade when your mother tried to make you, so why start now?

w Next, jackets and coats. This is where we get tripped up. Or maybe that’s just me. I wonder if blue-jean jackets really do work with everything. I wonder if it’s OK for my dress to show below my winter coat. I wonder if that adorable blue ski jacket is too young for me. I worry about wearing a coat over a jacket — too bulky? I worry about how much to spend on a good winter coat that I may wear only a handful of times a year.

You, too?

My solution is to depend on a few basics that work for me: 1) A fitted denim jacket for cool days that does go with everything — except other denim, of course, unless you’re going to a rodeo, and then, why not? 2) A hip-length insulated winter jacket that looks great with my everyday winter uniform of jeans and turtlenecks; 3) A thigh-length black insulated and waterproof jacket for those really yucky wet and cold days; 4) A calf-length black wool dress coat I scored for mere dollars at a consignment store that fits over anything; and 5) A packable nylon raincoat with hood that I can stuff in my purse and I carry anytime the skies threaten because I don’t like umbrellas. I lose them, I get soaked anyway trying to open and close them and I usually poke my or somebody else’s eye out. Decide what works for you and then you’ll always be prepared.

w That leaves hats and scarves, which utterly confound me. I am not a hat person — every time I put one on, the people I’m with beg me to take it off — and although I love scarves and am always tempted by the oh-so-adorable ones in stores, after three minutes I’m itching and scratching and have to take it off. So you’re on your own here.

Go ahead and buy a trench coat just for fun. You never know when you may need to dash through an airport.