While a snowstorm hit New York two weeks ago, I basked in a balmy London. Its ten-degree Celsius weather almost felt offensive to the coats and sweaters I’d packed.
But Manhattan, it turns out, decided to hoard that snow just for me. It stacked it in heaps along curbs and roadsides, turning my walk to work into an obstacle course that makes me feel like I’m auditioning for Ninja Warrior.
This weekend, temperatures dropped so far below freezing that I briefly questioned whether the five-minute walk to the hairdresser justified risking frostbite…
But these days covering greys is a non-negotiable.
