Wearable Warm-Ups
If anyone had suggested that I would be cozying up to the underbelly of a musk ox this winter, my response would have been belligerent.
And yet a hand-knit collar of qiviut , an Eskimo word for the cocoa-brown under-wool shed by musk oxen in Alaska, is my new favorite cold-weather accessory.
Garments knit of qiviut (pronounced ki-vee-ute) are not inexpensive, but once I slipped the gossamer smoke ring over my head that morning in Anchorage, I knew I would buy it.
It weighs less than an ounce and folds into a pocket. Whether worn as a collar or as a hood, it provides instant warmth, like a sudden blush or glass of red wine.
A British photographer whom I met in the lobby of the Captain Cook Hotel in Anchorage scoffed at the notion until I insisted he try it on. Then he grinned, relaxed his shoulders and admitted that his ears were burning. He hastened out to H Street and a shop called Ommingmak, which is the Musk Ox Producers’ Cooperative.
Wardrobe Winners
Other winter wardrobe winners that I am pulling out this season include a tan down vest with stand-up collar and snap pockets made by the North Face Co. and sold through ski shops.
Mine has traveled from Vermont to Arizona, from mountain lodge to dude ranch. It is also a good companion indoors, when my office turns as chilly as the country homes of English friends. It squashes into a corner of the suitcase and makes a fine pillow for a nap in a car or an airplane.
A V-neck sweater of Shetland wool or cashmere is another item that I always take along, usually in a tote bag for ready access.
Ragg socks are great for winter hikes, especially over a smooth pair of cottons. I’ve been known to sleep in Ragg socks when a motel room or a ship’s cabin seems cold or damp.
A sweat shirt and sweat pants--or a warm-up suit--can make any strange place seem like home. It’s a comfortable morning outfit when you want to step out for coffee and a doughnut without dressing for the day.
It’s a comfortable evening outfit when you want to settle into a hotel room to read or watch TV after long hours of touring. And a warm-up suit’s a natural for neighborhood walks or for taking an elevator to a hotel’s health club. For some travelers it replaces a robe.
My favorite gloves are the versatile two-in-one (deerskin leather outers, wool inners) from L. L. Bean. My current favorite trench coat is a 100% cotton model from Banana Republic. It has sturdy epaulets and deep pockets and it sweeps to 10 inches off the ground.
I wore mine in Missouri recently; it survived a canoe trip down the Mermec River and stayed crisp enough to take me out to dinner at Dierdorf and Hart’s Steak House in St. Louis’ splendidly restored Union Station.
Real Trouper
When the weather gets cool I reach for a two-piece wool challis dress of muted tones that is a real trouper. I bought it five years ago at the Jaeger shop on London’s Regent Street. Like most Jaeger garments, it will not wrinkle. Nor will it wear out.
Last winter I took it to Antarctica, as it had been everywhere else. It was the only dress I packed for the monthlong adventure.
As I entered the lounge of the Greek ship Illyria on Christmas Eve a passenger from Australia glanced at my dress, shook her head and said with a sigh: “What a waste!”
I admit I was one of only two or three women not buried in sequins for the festive occasion at the bottom of the earth, yet I was surprised by the affront.
“I wish I could wear that,” she went on, patting her midsection. “What a waist!”
I felt so cheered that I ordered homemade ice cream with honey-drizzled pastry that night, and let out my belt a notch.
