This past winter all but ruined my sense of style, as well as the reputation for sartorial splendor I’ve spent a lifetime cultivating. Yet there comes a point during the 29th snowstorm of the season, particularly when it’s coming down in spring, when you have to throw your hands in the air and simply cry mercy. I did that the last time I was in Boston and we were hit with a Saturday of driving snow. I put on a pair of L.L. Bean rubberized boots, a vintage garish parka purchased in emergency fashion from Sault, and made Kira pose in all the madness we could muster. This is how you get through the last few snowfalls. You go crazy.
