Canada is for Parkas

If Paris is for lovers, then Ottawa is for Parka-wearers, boys and girls.

I mean, I'm sure there are lots of romantics in Ottawa too.  But it's hard to express those feelings when it's -20 and colder outside, you know what I'm saying?  Doesn't matter if you're in Paris, Ottawa, or the blend-of-the-two, Quebec City, that I'm in in these pictures.

So this, boys and girls, is my parka.  It's like wearing a sleeping bag.  Which is more necessary and less cumbersome than you would imagine.

I had a red one a few years back that had mange on the hood, the stuffing all fell to the bottom, and the zipper was broken.  Which meant I had to step in and out of it.  And can I tell you, that's pretty hard to do in a giant lecture hall.

Through the grace of good friends who bought fancier coats, I inherited this beauty to replace ol' red.  The hood is still in furry glory, the stuffing is where it's supposed to be, and the zipper does as I tell it.  It's a very good little parka, and in exchange for my fondness, it keeps me warm when mother nature is telling you not to go outside.

So warm that you don't even need a scarf or hat!  Now that's a COAT.

Take that, mother nature.  I don't listen to nobody, not no how.

Homage to my friend Clara

Hooray for fur-lined hoods!

I love cannons.  And matching the relief on my parka.

I also love Winston Spencer Churchill.

Because we look the same.

Parka - Hand-me-down from a friend
Mittens - Church rummage sale
Tights - two pairs, American Apparel
Boots - foolish of me, should have brought my Sorels, Chinese Laundry

So don't go outside without one, boys and girls.  Together, we can enjoy winter!

Love,

Your friend Lina