One of the benefits of living in New York City is being completely and willfully ignorant of any other environment in the country world. There may be a handful of places where the summers are mild and sometimes a brisk afternoon can bring the mercury down, but I don’t know because the summers here in NYC are a shit-smelling, rainforest sauna piece of hell. That’s the benefit of being in the center of the universe—I don’t care about your pleasant summer with warm breezes skimming over fields of barley. Take your oxymoronic summer scarf elsewhere.