Parka Please

I may look the part in my boots and scarf, but below the layers I am (and always will be) a shivering Floridian who just can't woman up to the cold. And it's coming fast. I felt it under my bare feet when I stepped out of bed onto a chilled hardwood floor this morning. It was in the breeze that forced me to tuck my chin and tie up my jacket while walking home yesterday. It was in that frigid little transition from hot shower to towel. Before I know it, New York's cold season- all 5 ruthless months of it- will be in full frosty swing.

It will be my third since moving from winter-free Florida. I'll go ahead and give myself a solid D and C on keeping warm in 2008 and 2009. I made honest attempts- a fancy coat from Saks (attractive but worthless), a sad puffy jacket impulsively purchased from Loehmann's (when I couldn't fake warmth in the expensive Saks coat anymore) and a handful of scarves, hats and leggings hardly pulled me through.

This year, I'm not messing around. My strategy: a ridiculous coat from North Face. That beauty below is called an Arctic Parka. Sure, it will make me look a over-stuffed, gender-less, 200- pound Michelin Tire person with limited range of movement, but I will be oh so pleasantly toasty.

Bring it on negative degrees and wind tunnels. Me, the parka and my tiny space heater are ready.