People turn wimpy when it gets cold.
I'm talking really cold here, you know the kind that makes your breath freeze, and your nose hairs stick, and stuff shrink.
The main thing you notice when the temperature plunges into minus mode is that a large segment of the population gets big and puffy.
The cause of this mass super sizing is not food, however, it's meteorologists. In the entire history of weather reporting there is no known instance of a meteorologist ever talking about frigid temperatures without immediately adding "so make sure you dress in layers."
Sometimes TV meteorologists will also warn viewers against drinking alcohol to ward off the cold, but this advice can be confusing given some people consider alcohol is a layer.
Anyway, layering is highly subjective. To some, dressing in layers means adding a T-shirt or a sweater. To others, it means putting on all the clothing you own, and then maybe borrowing a few more things.
In addition to entombing their cores, the overly layered insulate their heads and faces with multiple combinations of hats, scarves, ear muffs, and hold-up masks.
There is no consideration given to fashion, unless one's idea of chic is a fat suit topped off by a snorkel parka and pair of spiffy L.L. Bean leather boots.
Keep in mind that this manner of dressing isn't to cross the North Pole or compete in the Iditarod. In most cases, exposure to the elements is limited to surviving a trip from the house to the car, or from the parking lot to the supermarket.
Here is something I have never understood. How come the multi-layered don't shed five or six courses once in their cars. Don't they have heaters? Don't they need to see? Aren't they worried they will be squashed if an air bag goes off?
On foot, the excess of layers creates balance problems for the cold fearing, causing them to waddle and roll and meander. In groups this conjures images of Yellowstone in winter and a herd of steaming bison.
It is, of course, very difficult to communicate with the layer-istas because their mouths are concealed behind hundreds of feet of scarfing. The upside of this is that you can't hear them when they muffle:
Cold enough for you?