As this year’s mid-October chill settled in, I sought out ways to combat the cold. I brainstormed several options: stuffing my face with Hot Cheetos, leg-warming with my overheating laptop or yelling at my mom to provoke her burning wrath. But by far the most effective, tried-and-true way to stay warm is by wearing a puffer jacket. 

For me, wearing one is a seasonal tradition: Every year, I end up dressing like an Antarctic hiker for Halloween. And as a result, I’ve faced backlash from people who think my fashion taste is either hilarious or as terrible as their Chinese grandma’s. 

You might say puffer jackets aren’t that bad, but as any English teacher will tell you, context is key. The kind I wear isn’t the expensive, trendy kind hanging on the racks at Nordstrom. Instead, I don ridiculously swollen jackets my mom buys on discount from Costco that double me in size.

In elementary and middle school, I wore a poofy dark blue number with sleeves three times as thick as my own arms. For its discounted price, it was of surprisingly good quality and durable enough to last me through many years of scampering across playgrounds and rolling in the tanbark.

I remember walking to my 6th-grade core class wearing this very jacket and hearing a few snickers in the hallway. I held my ground and shared a few laughs with my friends about being a blue Michelin man — the joke warmed me inside as much as my puffer jacket’s insulation technology did.

But when tufts of fluffy white cotton began leaking through the well-worn and patched sleeves of my now too-small jacket, I knew it was time for a change. 

In 8th grade, I graduated to my older sister’s bluish-purple hand me down, swapping the look of a walking blue cotton candy cloud for an indigo Baymax aesthetic.

This new (well, not really) jacket, although slimmer than my previous one, still has the same level of insulation. This is crucial, given my distinct lack of cold tolerance — I am someone who is comfortable in 90-degree weather but would die of hypothermia in sub-room-temperature climates. I wear thick jackets in every heavily air conditioned classroom to avoid feeling like a chunk of meat in Ranch 99’s refrigerated section.

No matter how many strange glances I receive, I continue to stand by my controversial wardrobe choices for the sake of practicality. This winter, my beloved puffer jacket will keep me warm and toasty while I watch other people turn into fashionable icicles.