There’s a paradox that always blows my mind about winters in St. Petersburg. The wind can be turning your eyelashes into icicles, and yet you’ll see plenty of short skirts, high-heeled boots, calfskin gloves and artfully wrapped scarves, which probably goes with being “the cultural capital”. You’ll see plenty of puffer jackets and maybe even fur jackets, too.
To me, stepping out into the cold is like going into outer space, so here’s my gameplan:
Get a move on.
One of the best parts about frigid weather is that you’ve got to move. Not only will you get to where you’re going faster and keep your limbs, you might lose a pound or two. I’ve developed a special winter pace that gets me from the house to the metro in under eight minutes – four minutes faster than in the summer. Olympic record.
Dress in layers.
I’m often tempted to wear the warmest, chunkiest, wooliest sweater I have but then I remember that I’ll cook on the metro, and that it’s toasty in most places inside. So unless it’s strictly an outdoorsy adventure, I go for a base layer, tights under jeans, an average sweater and a jacket, a coat and a scarf.
Get thick-soled boots and a hat.
Ok, so maybe your boots won’t be straight from a runway but your toes won’t fall off while you’re waiting for a bus. Also, the weather here can change on a dime, and you’ll be skating across the parking lot in the morning and threading salty slush in the afternoon. Waterproof counts. A beanie counts too. Earmuffs don’t.
Mittens over gloves.
Gloves are prettier but mittens are warmer. You can get a waterproof, fleece-lined pair or a pretty, hand-knitted pair from a babushka by a metro station. In all honesty, I don’t own either because I stick my hands in my pockets.
Let the warmth in.
When it gets really cold, there’s only so much time you can spend outside before you need to take cover and bring the inner temps back up with a cup of hot liquid and some carbs in a shape of an eclair. I know it’s time when my nose starts freezing.
If all else fails and you still are about to turn into the star of Frozen III, there’s always the banya, the Russian counterpart of the sauna where you get to enjoy scorching heat and possibly a plunge into an ice pool. That’s a little extreme for me, so I try to compensate with warm hugs.
