I have recently determined that my favorite seasons of the year are the ones whose names are verbs, namely Fall and Spring. This realization is ironic as verbs are something I normally try to avoid as they indicate movement or action of some kind. Winter and Summer, being nouns, make sense as the verbs are in motion to get to them. For instance, you can’t have winter and then immediately summer, or vice versa…unless you live in Northern Virginia, where this weather phenomena has been occurring for years.
Of course, labeling one’s self as a season has been something that has been done before, particularly in the realm of fashion. Living firmly outside of that realm, I can only guess as to the actual definitions of those classifications. Winter would seem to indicate that the person is cold, heartless, and would be keen to wear any sort of frigid weather outfit. Summer would be the kind of person that could wear anything, but would sweat profusely and for no apparent reason. Fall would be someone who drinks a lot, so should wear tight fitting clothing as not to exacerbate their tendency to hurl themselves to the ground. Spring, well, fashion worn by someone with entirely unacceptable levels of energy. Judging by videos I’ve seen…er…heard about, a person wearing Spring fashions would be best displayed on trampolines of some kind.
So, my fellow Birubegjans, which season are you?