Nuns, Doris Day and a bad case of Hat-Hair

Being a simple soul, there are many things in life that puzzle me. Why, for instance, after you’ve bought a replacement for something that is lost, does the thing that is lost suddenly make a miraculous reappearance? And why, after you’ve bought something from a shop, will it no longer fit back into its original packaging?

The thing that puzzles me most, however, is the movie musical*. One minute the musical is a normal movie, with no indication of a latent tendency to terpsichorean excess. The next, the leads and any extras who happen to wander onscreen are leaping around and singing with unabashed enthusiasm, regardless of weather conditions or restrictive nineteenth century clothing. It’s all very odd, particularly since this unusual behaviour is regarded as perfectly normal by any bystander watching the harmonious events unfold.

This is not to say that movie musicals can’t be instructive and educational, and I finally have proof to back up this reckless claim. There is a scene in the movie ‘Calamity Jane’ that particularly struck a chord with me recently. The winsome Doris Day plays the eponymous tomboy heroine. At the start of the film, Calamity Jane is dressed in practical frontier clothing. But then she falls under the influence of the city-born Katie Brown, who introduces her to the concept of femininity and the crinoline dress.

It is while wearing her new attire that Calamity falls into a creek and emerges covered from head to toe in wet, sticky mud, much to the amusement of Wild Bill Hickock. The moral I drew from this scene is that crinoline dresses aren’t really suitable for the outdoor life.

Which of course begs the question, just what is appropriate outdoor attire? Well, jeans certainly aren’t recommended. Once denim gets wet it stays wet, and wet clothes can lead to problems of heat loss and chafing, neither of which is much fun. I always wear walking trousers when out in the wild. They’re not waterproof by any means, but they do dry remarkably quickly once the rain stops or I cease falling into rivers. Stout boots are a necessity, and if they have good ankle support then so much the better.

On the head, a hat. Being averse to ‘hat-hair’ I’ve always shied away from wearing hats. However, I recently discovered that red-raw ears are even less attractive than the very worst ‘hat-hair’, so a hat has now become a vital part of my kit. Rather bizarrely, no matter how hirsute a person is, the covering of hair on the head is too thin to be effective as heat insulation. So bang goes my excuse for not getting a haircut.

The most important part of the body to keep warm after the head is the torso. All the major organs of the body, except the brain, are located there and let me tell you that the last thing you want is a cold spleen. There are two solutions to keep your spleen (and all the other bits and pieces in your midriff) warm. The first solution is to use a ‘layered’ approach whereby (as the name suggests) a number of layers of clothing are worn. The first (or base) layer should be made of a thin material to wick perspiration away from the body. The next few layers should be wool or fleece to trap the body’s heat and keep it where it is most needed. And then finally either a waterproof layer or at the very least a layer with good wind-stopping properties to stop cold air from outside getting in.

The second solution (and the one that I prefer) is the ‘all-in-one’ approach in which the various properties of the layering system (perspiration wicking, insulation and wind-stopping) are combined into one snug-fitting garment. The jacket I use is manufactured by Buffalo, though similar tops are made by other manufacturers. The only drawback I’ve discovered so far, is that without regular washing the jacket starts to smell like a buffalo.

Finally, gloves. I have several pairs for different conditions, from fingerless mittens (yes, such things do exist) to thick, padded gloves for the depths of winter. My advice with gloves is to experiment and see what works best for you. The important thing is not to lose any digits to frostbite during this empirical process.

That’s it for now, except to say…Just remember, take care, be safe, be warm…To catch hypothermia just isn’t good form…Hmmm, do you know something, I think I can feel a song coming on!

* With the honourable exception of ‘The Sound of Music’. Who could fail to be enthralled by the suffocating sense of impending doom as Austrian political freedom gives way to enforced Anschluss with fascist Germany? Or, of course, the sight of Julie Andrews in a wimple?