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I would like to take this time to talk to you about the travesty that is “hot girl summer.” If I never hear this phrase again it would be too soon. For those who happen to be unaware of this cultural phenomenon, allow me to enlighten you.

According to, Hot Girl Summer was originally coined by a female rapper by the name of Megan thee Stallion. It is a phrase used, particularly by females, when they are feeling confident in their solo Instagram pics, wearing summer attire. Well, let me tell you something Ms. Stallion, this girl is a little too hot in the summer.

I naturally run at a higher temperature. Whether I’m constantly running a low-grade fever, or I have my northern ancestors to blame for this is unclear. However, one thing is certain: I feel an aversion towards hot weather.

I don’t hate summer. Hell, I was born in August. So why the antipathy? I’ll tell you why. There is a deep seated pressure to look good and feel good in the summer, and some of us just don’t. I will argue that most of us feel quite the opposite. 

Let’s say it’s mid-July, COVID-19 doesn’t exist, and you and your friends plan an excursion to a local watering hole. It’s packed. You stand shoulder to shoulder with about 50 to 100 strangers. How long before you’re cute, half up, half down hair-do turns into a full blown messy bun? How long before you go from Baby Spice to Sporty Spice?

You walk into the bathroom to wipe the perspiration from your brow, but it doesn’t stop there, does it ladies? To my upstate girls, does the phrase “I’ve got the Erie Canal” ring any bells? You look in the mirror and you can’t tell if you’ve been sweating or crying with how far down your mascara has fallen on your face. Pit stains, heavy breathing, and a slow mind are just a few more of the side effects of the sickness we call summer. 

 It’s an overly romanticized time of year, filled with high expectations, too many weekend plans, and a conspicuous amount of clothing. I enjoy nice weather as much as the next person, but I need a slight chill in the air more than I need a blazing sun with no clouds. Call me crazy, but the transition from cold to cozy is exhilarating. You can keep your bathing suits, give me sweatpants and a hoodie. Give me a cold girl winter or give me death.

As I mentioned before, I might run at a slightly higher temperature than the average individual. At parties in college, one would usually find me by an open window, a fan, or in an air conditioned room. My friend Rachael used to introduce me to people as a “sweater.” I’m a creature of comfort. After all, you can only take so many clothes off when you’re hot. When you’re cold, you can always put more on, and besides, I look great in a sweater.

Cold Girl Winter: Project
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