We are socialized to pair things up logically: Oreos and milk, peanut butter and jam, pancakes and maple syrup, the list goes on…
This is why it has always come as a surprise to me that fashion and winter worthy warmth have neglected to become united as a couple.
Yes, they are flirtatious, but like two shy teenagers with braces and a face full of zits, they’ve never passed first base with each other, until now.
I have long been searching for ‘the perfect winter coat’, a coat which is breathtakingly fashionable and also shockingly warm. But every time I start to eye up a fashionable tweed cape in Top Shop’s Disneyland of selection, I hear my mother’s voice warning me “That will never keep you warm Holly, no one is going to care how cool you look now when you have frost bite scars all over you, here, wear my (insert name of ugly unattractive giant winter coat here) instead”….

Mama Rose's warnings have fallen on my deaf ears for many years and I have often opted for the fashionable choice, even back at home in Winnipeg, Canada, where an outdoor temperature of -58 degrees celsius is a definite possibility, I would trapes around in a pea coat from a fashion boutique rebelling against my mother’s wishes while desperately trying to ignore the clear signs of hypothermia beginning to set in.
You see, my general dislike of beer, inability to withstand the cold, and improvised singing of my country's French national anthem have made me a bad Canadian representative, I don't even say "eh". Don't get me wrong, I’m not bad-embarrassing like those guys with numerous maple leaf tattoos on their arms that insist on wearing the matching maple leaf board shorts and hat every time they hit the beach abroad, but I'm bad enough.

I am Canadian, a statement which implies that I know how to dress for cold weather, or at least withstand it; however, even in my new milder climated homes in London, U.K and Århus, Denmark, I find myself shivering in a bus stop along with the locals complaining about the weather,  when I should be shocking my new found peers with my ability to withstand it while I skate in circles around them barefoot shouting things like "hockey" and "moose" at them…
And, while I struggle with my Canadian-ism, I also struggle with the fight between practicality and fashion.
And so, with these eternal scuffles in my subconscious, I found quite a surprise when I begrudgingly followed my Danish boyfriend into an Århus sports store and found myself face to face with a fashionable northface jacket.
I have broken down and bought one of northface’s legendary coats before, a pink camouflage bomber jacket to be exact. I was just coming out of my Cheerleading years and the colour pink was still something I readily identified myself with, so a pink North Face seemed to be the obvious choice
(though I should mention camouflage is/was not, nor ever should be and obvious choice unless one is a hunter and or member if the army, so I’ve got no excuses for this fashion mishap) plus, my newly found best friend, the UGG boot, happened to find itself under my Christmas tree in the same shade, and as I was still in my matching phase as well, so nothing thrilled me more than the prospect of looking like snowbunny Barbie all winter long.
That was about 10 years ago, and I haven’t worn camouflage, pink, or northface since…..and I hadn’t really planned to, but since seeing the northface Boulevard jacket, I feel like fashion and northface warmth have made a decision to be together, this time in a serious and monogamous relationship, and I want to reinforce and encourage this relationship of theirs….this coat is not the epitome of perfection, but if this jacket is northface and fashion's attempt at 'first base', I can’t wait to see what the metaphorical home run will look like.