It's a wool coat, aubergine, medium-lined, not the uber-heavy long black number I wore in New York. This is the coat of a suburban commuter, exposed to the elements in moderate doses. It's a coat that's been pushed to its outer limits this year.
And nowhere has it been pushed more than its big, top, purple button. This is the lynchpin, what keeps me going, what ensures that the scarf is up tight around the neck, what anchors the ample collar that can be turned up to keep the cold breezes at bay.
Since I like a lot of scarf between my neck and the elements, the button is pushed to its limits. Every time I fasten it, I think, it's bound to give way soon and — horror of horrors — I'll actually have to do some sewing.
But so far, it holds. I cinch my belt tighter, zip up my boots, trudge to Metro — and remind myself that spring is right around the corner.