<http://schema.org/articleBody>
" On any given day, walking around Manhattan is like participating in a contact sport. But moving around this city when it&amp;#039;s windy and rainy is a different beast entirely. Whenever I step outside my Upper East Side apartment building on a dreary day that brings whirlwind precipitation, I have only one thought: It&amp;#039;s me against their umbrellas. The pedestrian who uses this waterproof contraption in the wind dumbfounds me, as it usually provides more grief than good. I know this because I&amp;#039;m the woman in the raincoat standing behind said person, waiting for him or her to tame the unruly gadget so we can all go inside. This past winter was rough for New Yorkers. We experienced a Nor&amp;#039;Easter, a blizzard, freezing temperatures, and lots of rain. Residents responded by breaking out their precipitation-blocking apparati in large numbers. There were some soggy days when I hurried down 3rd Avenue on my way to catch the 6 train, dodging pedestrians and their portable rain roofs like I was playing a twisted game of hopscotch. And now that we&amp;#039;re wrapping up those April showers that should bring May flowers but will probably just bring more rain, it&amp;#039;s time for an intervention. To anyone who uses umbrellas while it&amp;#039;s both rainy and windy: I understand that you don&amp;#039;t want to get wet. I understand that you are carrying groceries or are talking on your cell phone. I just don&amp;#039;t understand why you won&amp;#039;t wear a hood instead. While a brolly serves a practical purpose in the rain, it does not serve any purpose in the wind. Ever. Since rain and wind oftentimes come together, this not-so-surprising combination renders a parasol useless. When the wind is gusting, one of two things happens. One, the canopy is held aloft, eventually giving way to the wind and turning inside out, immediately calling to mind the tornado scene from The Wizard of Oz. Or, two, the rain shade is used as some kind of magical shield, placed defensively in front of the body instead of above the head, warding off the approaching gale (but not really blocking the rain). Regardless of the scenario, the person carrying the umbrella is likely hitting a fellow pedestrian in the process, and it&amp;#039;s my personal belief that I&amp;#039;m usually said pedestrian. He or she is also getting more soaked than he would if a hooded parka were simply worn in the first place. I come across downed soldiers all the time, torn-apart bumbershoots scattered in roadside gutters, sticking out of garbage cans, or stuck between drainage holes. That&amp;#039;s because a brolly will likely break when used in the wind. And then a new one will have to be purchased, thereby fueling a ridiculous cycle that doesn&amp;#039;t actually keep you dry. Hoods, on the other hand, will not break or invade anyone&amp;#039;s personal space. If a breeze comes along that&amp;#039;s powerful enough to toy with the head covering, it will only take a thumb and index finger to steadily hold it in place. While raincoats may get drenched, they will dry quickly, as the slicker is the only piece of clothing, besides a bathing suit, specifically designed for a sodden occasion. So I ask \u2014 nay, beg: Whether you are the New Yorker who uses a flimsy black one from a bodega, the golf umbrella that you&amp;#039;ve had for decades, or that chic parapluie that you splurged on at MoMA to display a sophisticated new you, don&amp;#039;t take it out into the bluster of a windy day in the city. Instead, on such a day, do us all a favor and just keep it in that floor vase thing you bought from Pier 1 on that one uneventful Saturday. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.esquire.com/style/mens-accessories/advice/a22385/argument-against-umbrellas-042913/>