It's 8am, the time of the morning commute. People are all looking pretty unhappy. Young and old, those in office wear, those in gym gear, school kids in uniforms which should fit but don't. That's the problem with growth spurts. You can never predict when they will come - but I can almost guarantee that the day you buy accurately-sized official school uniform will be a week before it no longer fits at all.
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But it's not just the start of the working day which is making everyone miserable. It is also the weather. Pouring rain. Very windy.
Feels like it's been this way forever. While I know my memory is not as good as it used to be, I'm pretty clear that in my mind, springs were springy. Sure, the odd shower, plenty of sneezing, but lots of glorious sunshine. And summers with radiant blue skies, temperatures soaring. Towels on the line were dry in an hour.
On any day now, for three years, it has rained or poured, gusts of wind making it feel worse than it really is. And a quick glance around will reveal we are as unprepared for the weather as we have ever been.
Totally understandable when it's a couple of rainy days set against dry skies and windlessness. Not so understandable when this is our third La Nina. You'll know La Nina. It's the weather phenomenon which brings with it heavy dumps of rain. In our case, those dumps of rain happened across all the COVID summers. Just when we thought we could venture outside it bloody rained and kept raining.
So what does unprepared mean in this context? We go outside with not one tiny piece of rain apparel of any kind. No umbrella. No raincoat. No gumboots. Even thongs would be a better solution than the sodden leather loafers I see around the place.
And if we do take an umbrella, it's a $2 job which ends up turning inside out with the wind, breaking its spines and then left like broken brolgas in bins across parks and in railway stations.
Please tell me why grown men and women spend good money on workwear and do nothing to protect themselves from the weather.
Emily Brayshaw, a research fellow in the School of Design at the University of Technology Sydney, says she knows exactly why we don't dress for our new and soggy conditions. Even when it is raining all the time, it is just too warm for the best rainproof gear of all time, a raincoat.
"You get trapped in your plastic rain coat and you don't want to steam in that. People don't like that sensation," she says.
And it's a whole different vibe from where she grew up, in Goulburn, regional NSW. Years of drought and even when there was no drought, it was still pretty dry. Rain was rarely on the radar.
But Brayshaw says we might have an unusual way of adapting to our new rain patterns. We just won't go out.
"I would say that having been locked down and being iso champs has kind of us got into that headspace. Maybe we will just get the groceries delivered and maybe we don't need to get out at all," she says.
Brayshaw is now researching the world's ugliest shoe, the Birkenstock. The company is funding her to write a history of the clunky sandal but she admits while they are not the most gorgeous shoe, they are reasonably practical in wet weather. It now manufactures a plastic shoe which is totally useful during La Nina.
She says, in her defence, "Ugly shoes are in fashion and more summer plastic footwear will be on the cards." Brayshaw even suggests Crocs which, to my bougy tastes, are even uglier than Birks. Still, surely anything is better than ruining leather shoes. Brayshaw has wellingtons she wears to work and then changes into office shoes.
The raincoat wearing is something we can learn from the Brits who've had damp climate forever - but they don't have to deal with our fat raindrops (is that a thing? I feel like that's a thing). In 2012, in London's Seven Dials district, I found a beautiful garment advertised as a raincoat. The colour of bronze, snappy zips and clips all over the place. Deep pockets. Quite breathable.
Unfortunately, it was only ever tested in the British version of rain where it worked perfectly. In Australia, it lasted precisely three minutes before leaving me drenched by a squall at Currarong. I've since graduated to a brand called Rains* which has a look that suits someone 40 years younger than me but at least it is one thousand per cent waterproof. It's black. Toby Slade, an associate professor at UTS School of Design, says the new Australian weather has one excellent result.
READ MORE JENNA PRICE COLUMNS:
"The stark Australian light always required really bright colours and washed out anything subtle but the new weather patterns with more diffuse light make subtle colours more viable," says Slade.
When I was looking for stories of people and wet weather gear, I came across Walking with Rain by Susannah Clement, a lovely chapter in an academic book about how weather impacts our mobility. In it, Clement writes of a child and her brother who walk to school when it rains. The six-year-old has an umbrella and wears a raincoat and gumboots, so does her mum. The baby brother sits in a stroller which is protected by a stroller cover. All those rain-resistant accoutrements, writes Clement, generate "moments of joy and playfulness". The mother even sings to them. You can imagine all the rain songs: Singing in the Rain, Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head. Here Comes The Rain Again. It's Raining, It's Pouring. And so on.
Despite my raincoat and secondhand Marc Jacobs gumboots bought for $5 at a garage sale, I'm still at the stage of singing, "Rain, rain, go away." Please don't come back another day.
- Jenna Price is an honorary fellow at ANU and a regular columnist.
- She is also clearly not sponsored by Rains but geez, credit where it's due, at least she's dry after a walk in this weather.