Suzy Says

Given the eensy-weensy piece-ette of the pie devoted to “other”, you won’t be surprised to hear that although I’m leaving for Toronto on Sunday, I have yet to pack.

Normally, I’m a planner. When my father was alive, we’d plan trips together a year ahead. Not only did it give me months of anticipation fun, but I truly believe that if you plan ahead, you’ll have more fun. You’ll already know where the great restaurants, art galleries, and vineyards are, so you don’t have to waste time on the search, which may or may not be successful, once you get there. Given that I live in the U.S. of A., where vacation time is as precious and limited as black truffles or saffron, I don’t want to waste any work-free time I may have.

So I should already be packed, including jewelry and hair accessories (always important), especially considering that I will be up against one of the most challenging situations to dress for: a terminally vain girl meeting up with old girlfriends who not only knew her in her glorious youth, but know all the make-up tricks. The desired effect is casual, but stunning. Like I just happen to look fabulous but am not dressed up or appear to have made any effort. This is the hardest look to achieve.

Not only that, but the weather is presenting a wardrobe challenge. Yes, I can go to Europe for three weeks with one carry-on bag, but the climate in, say, Florence in October is much less temperamental than Toronto in late May. And they say Italians are temperamental. Canada has a lock on the diva when it comes to weather.

I have been anxiously surveying the Toronto forecasts for the past week, while wondering if they are as (in)accurate as the San Francisco ones. It’s scheduled to be raining on the night I arrive, with the daytime high of 60&deg and a night time low of 48&deg. Now this right here is what we call winter in these parts, which would require sweaters and possibly cashmere socks. But I know the perfidiousness of the Toronto climate and it’s completely capable of suddenly being 85&deg or worse and horribly humid. I seem to recall there being about two weeks of really good weather there per year: the one week of spring, before it gets hot and muggy and buggy for the next three months, and the one week of fall, before it gets ass-freezing cold for the next six to eight months.

I’m hoping to get that spring week – it really should make its d&eacutebut on my birthday, as a gesture to international relations and my birthday week. But I’ll bring layers, just in case. And I’ll go out on a limb and leave the cashmere socks at home.