Jessai Flores

Over the past few weeks, there’s been almost no occasion where I was dressed for the same weather as my friends. Half of them were all bundled up in cozy wool-knit sweaters, while the other half donned their beloved shorts. Are we all just meteorologically challenged at Yale? Maybe. Is nature playing a guessing game of dress-up? Definitely.

If you’re as skilled at ignoring reality as I am, your morning probably starts with the ritual of opening your entryway door (between 9 a.m. and 1 p.m., to be clear), realizing you’ve dressed for yesterday’s weather, climbing the stairs back to your room, and changing into something that matches what it feels like outside (why I opt for the entryway door versus opening the window is a great question). It goes without saying that I don’t trust Weather.com.

Recently, I’ve been wondering if people keep both their winter and summer wardrobes on standby. Until last week, I only had my summery dresses in my wardrobe, and had to dig deep into my closet to rescue that perfect light sweater. Said sweater is more elusive than one might think, unless you’ve methodically temperature-sorted your closet.  

October weather in New England is like that one indecisive friend everybody knows — it is perplexing. Just as the leaves begin to reliably trade their green for vibrant red and gold, the weather seems to have an identity crisis. The inevitable transition between summer and winter leaves us plebeians second-guessing and reaching for both sunblock and scarves (note to self: this is a messy combination).

But here’s the kicker: the umbrella conundrum. We all have that trusty umbrella we happily carry on cloudy days that unexpectedly turn into bright, sunny ones, yet leave it behind on days when the heavens weep. It’s a cruel cosmic joke. 

But even on the days where the rain and your umbrella decision are miraculously synchronized, you’re still faced with the dilemma of opening your umbrella between your entryway and your college’s iron gates. If you decide to open it as soon as you step outside, then you must awkwardly try to close the umbrella (which never works) as others flow in and out, turning you into a twirling, smiling, umbrella-wielding fiasco next to the gate that weighs at least a half a ton. It is in this moment that you see the true marvels of our world: the people who simply stroll, perfectly dry, as if raindrops know to avoid them. It’s all quite magical to me.

I even know of one intrepid soul who has survived New England weather without ever owning an umbrella for the past four years. I don’t know if they have an innate aversion to staying dry, or if the constantly-changing weather patterns made them skeptical of an umbrella’s practicality (in which case, we should all follow their example). Regardless, the real question is: how often do you actually have an umbrella with you when you leave your class in the pouring rain, especially after entering on a sunny day? I think we all know the unfortunate answer.

At this point, it’s a fairly common experience to wake up to a brisk morning only to be sweltering by lunchtime, when the sun enters like it is the star of the day (see what I did there?). I, too, change my mind as often as the weather changes its mood, so I guess it’s safe to say that New England weather and I are kindred spirits.

While the unpredictable nature of October in New England can be frustrating at times, it also keeps us on our toes. New England fall is an open invitation to experiment with fashion. Walking around campus, I run into more and more creative ways to layer every day. Shorts and a wool sweater? Yes. Dress and a trench coat? Even better.

So, what’s the deal with New England’s October weather? It’s a bit of a wild card, and year after year it catches me by surprise. One might think I would learn after my first fall in New Haven, if not my second. But here we are in my fourth New England fall, and I have yet to procure the skills to cope with this rollercoaster ride of sun, rain, cold and heat. Still, as I navigate fall, year after year, one thing’s for certain: it is kind of fun not knowing what the next day brings.