This wouldn’t even be close to a gunpoint-at-head scenario; it would be sweet relief and freedom. I purchased that caftan–an item of clothing I had never considered owning, never mind wearing, in my entire life–back in the summer of 2020. Along with all of the other atrocities and grotesqueries the world was forced to submit to that year, my city experienced what they called a “heat dome” for several days (guys, it’s a heat wave, just like an “atmospheric river” is a rainstorm…when did we start bowing down to nonsensical euphemisms?). Vancouver is not a city known for its sweltering summers, and thus our architectural infrastructure is not equipped for meteorological infernos.
We were all suffering quite profoundly in pounding mid-thirties-Celsius weather–this is to say nothing of the wildfire smoke choking out the entire province–and shorts and T-shirts weren’t cutting it; every part of your body became sweaty within an hour, no matter if you had a column fan blasting far and away on maximum (domiciles here generally don’t have A/C).
I impulsively bought that caftan off Amazon, had it within two days, and joyfully lived out the rest of the summer in it. I received plenty of compliments publicly for my choice of outfit in the unbearable heat, and hoped I inspired men and women alike to pick up their own caftan. Since that dreadful year, it remains the one item of clothing I gravitate to for pure relaxation and comfort. It’s light, it’s billowy, it’s cute in its own way, it hides a multitude of sins if my weight is fluctuating, and I wouldn’t dream of wearing a brassiere with it; I already feel compelled to wear a wired harness around my chest all day long, but I won’t be doing it with my caftan.
…I’ve also been watching quite a bit of “Three’s Company” on Roku lately, and Mrs. Roper was absolutely ahead of her time. That’s exactly how I’m going to live out my end days, should I make it that far: fiery red hair and nothing but a collection of technicolour caftans.
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