It finally dropped below freezing in New York. That means layers. And flannel. I love winter. It takes the edge off my dysphoria.
The official start of my flannel season is the weekend after Labor Day. I take stock of my shirts. Which one needs a button, which ones are so scruffy that they should only be worn for chores, and which ones should go into the rag box. One of the sad things about flannel is that it doesn’t last forever. Continue reading →