A moment of silence for the brave girls who go out without coats
The Patron Saints of Great Nights Out
After Trump’s inevitable approaching apocalypse, when the nuclear holocaust has reduced us all to dust, there will be just two things resilient enough to remain on this earth: cockroaches, and girls who can go on a night out in winter without bringing a coat.
These beautiful creatures, usually from Up North, are the true heroes of every night out. They feel no cold. The rain does not chill them. The night out is all they care about, and they will not let inevitable shivering in the smoking area and potential frostbite get in the way of an excellent tagged photo.
There’s a level of extra-ness that leads you to abandon proper winter gear to show off a banging dress. It’s the same minute attention to detail which means if you’re truly committed to the sesh and the sesh aesthetic, you will not – will not – be wearing tights either. It does not matter how cold it is, how rainy it is, how uncomfortable your heels are, how far the walk to the club is, how precarious carrying the kebab back will be and how many cobbled streets there are.
Girls are so brave wearing dresses and no coats out clubbing in this weather, meanwhile I acc had leggings on under my jeans to go pub
— charli (@kbcharli_) December 29, 2016
You know you're back up north when all the girls are off for a night out in the pissing rain with no coats & bare legs
— Victoria Partington (@Lady_VP84) April 25, 2014
There’s a level of extra that leads you to abandon proper winter gear to show off a banging dress. It’s the same minute attention to detail which means if you’re truly committed to the sesh and the sesh aesthetic, you will not – will not – be wearing tights either. It does not matter how cold it is, how rainy it is, how uncomfortable your heels are, how far the walk to the club is, how precarious carrying the kebab back will be and how many cobbled streets there are.
There are plenty of people making fun of how supposedly frivolous these girls are. How what they’re doing is stupid and shallow and not sensible. This is not what people should be looking at. Instead we should be focusing on the immense bravery of these women. It takes guts to leave your cosy coat at home and walk into the biting cold and icy pavements and unforgiving landscape of the klerb. It takes guts to order your priorities like this: sesh > aesthetic > comfort. They deserve our respect.
Also, they pretty much know the secret that everyone else doesn’t: that if you get drunk enough before you leave the house, it doesn’t matter how frigid it is outside, you’re never going to feel it anyway, so fuck it. They know what is important – getting drunk, getting drunk quickly, and having fun – and what isn’t important – extra fabric. They know the sinking feeling we all experience when we see the queue for the cloakroom, when we have to dig out £1 for the pleasure of waiting and the crushing disappointment of losing your ticket on a soggy bathroom floor and having to spend 20 minutes drunkenly begging the girl behind the desk “look, I can see it, it’s the fur one at the back, please”. And what’s the point? You’ll spill ketchup on your baby pink fur, burn a cigarette hole in your camel, leave your favourite leather biker in the bedroom of a guy you’ll never see again.
The hero girls without the coats know all this, and if we’d just listen to their expert advice rather than looking down our noses at them then maybe, just maybe, they’d teach us their ways.