The Nation: Warm and Chic

Paris decreed several years ago that the layered look was In. Last year it was the lumberjack look (TIME, Nov. 29). Willy, or more probably nilly, the doyens of fashion were making warm, practical sense. In this winter of American discomfort, it is not only chic—for men as well as women—but positively de rigueur to be decked out like an able-bodied seaman on the Murmansk run.

Dressing warmly is mainly a matter of insulation—of trapping body heat. Loggers who work Maine’s north woods wear up to ten layers of loose-fitting clothes. Next to themselves, they like old-fashioned woolen union suits best. They wear heavy wool pants and, topside, pile on sweatshirts, sweaters, flannel shirts, insulated vests, jackets and parkas. They encase hands in leather mittens with wool liners, feet in two pairs of socks and heavy felt liners and rubber boots that do not leak heat. Some people sandwich a plastic bag between two pairs of socks.

As ancient mariners, polar residents and all other serious outdoorsmen know well, simply heaping on clothes brings on the sweats—and the sweat can swiftly freeze. The best bottom-line investment (for about $18) is a thermal —meaning it traps the air—underwear with an inner lining of moisture-absorbent cotton topped with wool, cotton and nylon. On top the urban survivor wears a flannel shirt, a cashmere sweater or a goose-down vest, a tweed jacket, a muffler, mittens (which allow fingers to warm each other) and a heavy overcoat. On the assumption that the 8:30 a.m. train to town will be a late, late show, the well-booted suburbanite may be wise to invest in the commuter’s equivalent of a mink coat: Eddie Bauer’s Eskimo-designed, nylon and cotton Superior Polar Parka with hood ruff of natural coyote fur (“comfort range -70° to 50° above”) for only $185.

Strangely, the head, the supposed repository of wisdom and common sense, is the most prodigal of all heat leakers. It can lose 50% of all body warmth. The head has to be hatted. Headgear ranges generally in inverse proportion from price to utility, from the $1,000 silk-lined sable topknot to the $3.95 classic old salt’s woolen watch cap, which pulls down over the brow and ears. The Balaclava helmet, invented during the Crimean War and knitted by millions of home-front wives in World War II, is possibly the best solution for unselfconscious urbanites: it costs only $4.95 and completely covers the head and neck. The last word in cold-weather protection is the steel-gray goose-down face mask ($16.95), with mini-slits for eyes and nostrils. It is not advisable to wear it when visiting the bank.

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