Millennial urban legend has it that if you miss the cut off for cuffing season (December 31 is arguably thought to be the final deadline), you’re doomed to a winter of barren dating apps, singles bars, cold beds and bad decisions while the rest of the world does the nasty and laughs.
Not so true. Turns out all humans aren’t hibernating bears. Susan Miller herself predicts love year round; even in her deepest dose of Mercury-backed doom and gloom, she offers monthly rays of romance.
But we also shouldn’t forget that shacking up isn’t for everyone. Some of you wild ones can’t wait to throw the ice skates on and glide down the frozen goose of singledom. I see you. I see you in your blades of glory.
Either way your door swings, of course, it’s important you know there’s another kind of cuffing season in town. (Which is the point of this rambling post.)
The New Cuffing Season is designed for those who refuse to be cinched at the wrist by the tight grip of the law, who want the freedom to wear their sleeves too damn long, who are unafraid to hold hands regardless of the fact that in these cuffs, a holder’s hand could get lost.
Literal cuffs have been blown up to extreme proportions — think about Céline, the Spring 16 runways at Derek Lam, J.W. Anderson and Trademark. Think about the retail offerings of Rosie Assoulin, Michael Kors and this one by Anne Quan (that keeps selling out).
What you can’t think about are the things that become a bit impossible to do in these giant cuffs. Things like…
– High-fiving (at least not without careful concentration)
– Reckless spaghetti eating (you should really be more careful anyway)
– Assisting in the birth of four-legged animal
– Typing. More or less. (Although I managed just fine by scrunching the arm fabric up.)
Should you be raising your naked hands in the comments to ask, “Amelia, can’t I just unfold my old French cuffs to get similarly spectacular results?”
The answer, of course, is yes.
Too harsh? No way. It’s cuff love.