PEER INTO MY To catch me from the apartment across the street without noticing the apartment clumsy, And you will find me at Uniqlo Heat Tech. From October to May, I was wiped from head to toe with the best rayon / poly / acrylic long john in Japan, spidering from room to room like a middle-aged stagehand or a deeply prosac pantomime. Become. Get up before the alarm clock, take off your pajamas, and count your knee bends. Touch with your toes, climb your sweatpants, sit in your bathrobe, have breakfast, try to communicate, talk about the day, or tweet to yourself. All of these are not HEATTECH nudity. I lack a protective sheath only for an unpleasant shower, and the accompanying ritual of observing an amazing amount of emollient disappears on my body and face.
Hygge, Fair Isle, Kibout, Tody. None of this appeals to me. I’m not good at winter. I don’t like it. Admitting that guarantees a cool reception that is usually reserved for people who conspiracy theoretically reveal that they are not good at results or cannot wait in line.But if you’re a casual guy in shorts, flip flops, Patagonia Best The sub-zero weather taught me something, that I wasn’t built epigenetically for this.
I was fooled by the more stubborn people who needed a base layer: those who snowboarded or “bred up in Chicago”.
I first saw snow falling from the sky when I was 22 years old. I grew up in Hong Kong, where the morning toilet paper is often wet. Then I moved to south-central Texas. There, six months of the year are spent in the three-digit heat that ruins milk when driving home. Before I moved to New York, I only knew that the snow was scattered in the water and wrapped in a glass globe. It was strange and purely cosmetic. It may have been glittering.
They say that trauma remains in the body. The assigned meat suit maintains the score. The first winter in New York, the 2003 North American snowstorm, also known as the President’s Daystorm or PDII for meteorologists, in Brooklyn’s Red Hook in waist-high snow. I trembled violently and waited for the bus to come.I wore a jacket that made me laugh
I had a nylon Nike Cortez on my leg. The snow I knew was wet. The sunk cost error associated with New York transit may kill you by the time you throw ice-cold clothes on the bathroom floor and burn water that requires mottled purple goosebumps. I learned.
The retelling of this tragic story did not elicit the sympathy one would expect. I was scolded by experienced and stubborn people, those who snowboard and “bred up in Chicago”, for a base layer. I went with the first kind that appeared on Google. Now, to protect myself from the unruly climate, I modestly need four heat techs in rotation and two on ice. Some are functional, but most are medical conditions. Every time I open the ruthless Kondo drawer and stare at a small bunch of warmth that saves lives, I am deeply relieved and grateful. I’m part of the normal weight of the leaf-changing month, but it’s strictly “very warm” after Boxing Day. Extra warmth tends to pill, so I wash it cold in the washing machine and line dry it. I like men’s tops. Women’s tops seem to be cut specifically for the body of a thin, short trunk. I don’t think the over-scooped neckline for women is serious. I get it all in black because I enjoy matching pairs as the only remaining tailoring consideration to exchange humor whenever there is no sunlight. It may not be the bold desire of Issey Miyake’s turtleneck Steve Jobs and Brunello Cucinelli’s T-shirt Zuckerberg, but the tiredness of the decision is a reality. I may not be personally responsible for the devastating and ambitious tech giant, but recently switched from English muffins to steel-cut oats. This feels like a good solution until the next quarter.
Whenever I talk about my dedication to HEATTECH, wool is said to change my life. The merino is a very good product. I think this is true. Betrayed by the seasonal sale, I even ordered a set of Icebreaker Bodyfit Zone 260. When they got lost in the mail, I soon learned the stupidity of such Sally. In the purchase reviews I’ve seen for this experience, the soul doesn’t get out of the body as much as when I visited the post office for $ 260 in missing underwear on vacation. Besides, there is the “best”, then mine.
Looking in the mirror, you don’t even see Heat Tech as something else. It may be a symbiote. Spider-Man’s Venom Suit. Ava’s essential gray mesh from “Ex Machina”. As an author, I used to work from home all the time, but my already lazy dress code got worse because the author ordered me to stay home. But now that a year has passed, the days have increased, and parents have been vaccinated, sweatshirts have been upgraded to sweaters. Trousers with a tailored waistband are no longer anachronistic. Recently, I’ve been known to apply even reasonably symmetrical eyeliner and lipstick for the morale of myself and others. I bought a decent office chair with extant lumbar support, and I can foresee the desire to wear pretty frilled frills as well as the actual opportunity. Still, don’t hurry. In order to dress properly, you need a baby step. For now, all other layers just have to go up, as well as a kid who decides to refuse to be without his beloved swimsuit or co-dependently important Halloween outfit.
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How Uniqlo Heat Tech became the writer’s secret weapon in winter
Source link How Uniqlo Heat Tech became the writer’s secret weapon in winter