I have a long, warm coat to keep me comfortable for when I am outside. When I get inside, and take off that coat, half the time, I am no longer wearing pants. That’s right. I have begun pairing long tank-tops and tights. I wonder what took me so long, to be honest.
This is something I would never get away with in the States, which makes the experience all the more meaningful. It’s like, “so what if the ice hasn’t been cleaned off the street in a month? So what if I was having a cigarette outside the theater today, and someone set a pile of trash on fire in broad daylight? So what if the Mayor doesn’t even give a crap about the stray dogs overrunning the city? AT LEAST I DON’T NEED TO WEAR PANTS.”
It looks good with a pair of boots, but most importantly, nobody cares. And if they do care, they do so in an appreciative way. I can enjoy a pants-free existence at the movies, I can enjoy a pants-free existence while buying cold medication. I went and lit candles in church today, pants-free beneath my trusty coat.
Suck on that, Western Civilization.