Is there anything quite like winter in Oregon? Instead of picturesque snowy landscapes, we’re treated to relentless torrents of rain and gusts of wind that feel capable of knocking over buildings. The sun becomes a distant memory. If you’re not prepared, winter here can be quite the challenge. And for some reason, we choose to make it even harder for ourselves by not using umbrellas.
If you ask anyone from Oregon, you’ll probably hear that it’s far more embarrassing to carry an umbrella than it is to get soaked by the rain after 10 minutes outside. From the outside, this sounds ridiculous. Oregon has a reputation for rainy weather (despite not being one of the 10 wettest states in the U.S.), so it would make sense that residents would embrace umbrellas with open arms.
A study conducted by The Oregonian, however,reveals the majority of Oregon residents — 66% — refuse to carry umbrellas when rain is in the weather forecast. When I began this article, I proudly counted myself among that majority. After so many games of “spot the Californian” on rainy days, I was determined to never use an umbrella.
Before going any further, I do have a small confession to make: I haven’t lived in Oregon for my entire life. I know; I know. But after living here for 14 years, I’ve fully subscribed to the anti-umbrella rhetoric that surrounds me every day. There’s something that feels so bulky, uncomfortable and conspicuousabout carrying an umbrella. It might as well be a giant neon sign that says, “Hey, look at me! I can’t stand Oregon weather because I’m weak!” Whenever I end up holding one, I feel like I’m desperately seeking attention. I practically melted into the ground from shame when I ran into someone from high school while I was bringing my roommate her umbrella. It was like I had been caught leading a double life.
Beyond my feelings, though, there are genuine arguments against umbrellas. For one, you automatically lose a free hand. As an incredibly accident prone person, this is a major downside. They also take up valuable space in a backpack, and that’s already assuming they fold to make storage feasible. With that, the restless Oregon wind often renders umbrellas impractical. Sure, they would be helpful if the rain fell straight down, or at least consistently in one direction. As anyone who has been here for more than 10 minutes can tell you, this scenario is unlikely.
However, there are only so many times a person can stand getting drenched on the way to class. This winter, I’m getting the feeling I’m approaching the end of my anti-umbrella days. My roommates have taken to calling me “drowned rat Sadie,” and my dignity has limits. Don’t get me wrong, I love my raincoat, and I’m certainly not about to give it up. But the idea of staying dry outside is appealing. Now, there are times I catch myself thinking longingly about the bright purple umbrella buried shamefully in my bottom drawer. If you’re going to make a statement, go big, right?
Beyond general practicality, umbrellas have a rich and exciting history. According to umbrellahistory.net, a website dedicated solely to the history of umbrellas, the tools originated in Egypt thousands of years ago and were used for protection from the sun. They became an important status symbol across cultures in the following years. Anything that lets me pretend to be an ancient royal can’t be all bad.
Right now, I’m not sure exactly where I stand on umbrellas. From a logical standpoint, they’re useful, readily available and suited well to Eugene’s climate. Unfortunately, I am struggling with the overwhelming embarrassment I feel when I’m even near one. I don’t think this season will make me a committed umbrella user, but who knows? I’ve completely revised my opinion on people who use umbrellas, and I might not be so quick to judge the next time I see some poor rain-soaked student carrying one. In a way, it’s impressive they’re not embarrassed. Maybe I’ll get there someday too.
