Ahhh...Spring. Must be some chirping birds and crocuses somewhere under that four feet of snow...

Frolicking with Spring Butterflies @ Delia's

It's February, in the deepest, darkest wilds of Canada. Long johns and balaclavas are still the accessories du jour. Cars won't start, toes are prone to frostbite, Winterlude is in full swing in the Nation's capital.

This is not the time to taunt a poor Canadian girl's frozen heart with images of girls frolicking in the Springtime sunshine with birds twittering around them, butterflies forming a rainbow of colour around their heads, or a riotous meadow of wildflowers carpeting their sandal clad feet. Not the time to portray your fashion wares on lithe, tanned women reclining on the decks of yachts and squinting up at the unseen sun. Not the time to showcase floaty, frilly, barely-there sundresses and camis and bermuda shorts.

And yet, you taunt us so! In the store-fronts, on web-pages, in your magazine ads. Apparently, somewhere in their corporate tower, the powers-that-be have decided that there's some enormous marketing potential in torturing women who live in semi-Arctic climates with images of a blissful, sun-soaked Spring and the clothes they would inevitably be wearing should disastrous global warming spontaneously melt five feet of snow and get the crocuses and daffodils growing. I'm sure there's some logic to this anticipatory bombardment of Spring style months before Canada will see temperatures above freezing.

And at times, it's rather frustrating when you get to the mall in the hopes of adding another warm layer to your outfit to save yourself from the minus-44 degree wind chill, only to be confronted with shops carrying nothing but short-shorts and camis and thong sandals. Just saying.

In late March, maybe, or early April, I too like to flip through the pages of magazines and dream a little of donning something that shows a bit more skin than a parka. When the first, tentative tendrils of Spring sunlight start to melt the snowbanks, when exposed skin doesn't turn blue in fifteen seconds. That's when I want to start dreaming of (and buying for!) Spring. Until then, keep the long johns and balaclavas in stock and don't taunt us with images of the unattainable!