No one wants a cold neck.
But I didn't know this, or rather, didn't appreciate or respect the pure misery of a cold neck, until I moved to Colorado. Now, in the midst of my second winter here, the second winter of "uncharacteristically" heavy snow, I totally get it. Having a cold neck? Sucks.
Looking back, I don't believe I even understood the concept in Texas. I would see colorful scarves in the stores starting in September (when it's still over 100 degrees there) and scoff. Oh, sure, they were pretty, but useless and sweaty, as far as I was concerned.
Well. I have been forced to swallow my scoff like a bag of burnt popcorn.
Here is what I know now: you can wear the warmest, coziest, puffiest coat on earth, the most luxurious down or the heaviest wool, but if your neck isn't wrapped in a scarf, forget it -- you're going to freeze your ass off.
Now, there are all kinds of hip ways to attach a scarf to your neck--we had a whole discussion at work about this today--but the bottom line is, you want something warm to fill the space between your nose and your collarbone when there is snow blowing down from the sky and your breath is so visible you can almost write words in it with your finger. And like the fashionista that I am (HA), I have taken to collecting scarves because they are not only useful, but a damn cute fashion accessory, as well.
Stay tuned for the next in this series: Gloves and the hell that is an icy cold steering wheel.