I strongly dislike umbrellas in the city. I see people treating umbrellas as if they are disposable products. You run out of the house in the morning, and it begins to drizzle. You realize you haven’t packed your umbrella. So you buy one on the corner for five dollars. Umbrellas are light and cheap and flimsy. They don’t keep you dry. Your brand new umbrella, which you bought as a reaction to the weather of the day, breaks within minutes, its arms splayed uselessly upwards, its membrane tattered in the wind. How many of these sad umbrellas have I seen abandoned on the sidewalk, in alleyways, in bike lanes?
Not only are umbrellas not particularly effective for their intended use (to keep the holder of the umbrella dry), they also create a disproportionate inconvenience to everyone else on the street. You’re holding your shiny new umbrella. The wind hasn’t picked up yet, let’s imagine, so for now your umbrella is serving its purpose: you’re a bit drier than you would be without it. But you’ve encased yourself in a sense-deprivation dome: you can no longer see the sky, let alone anyone around you. What little situational awareness you may have had is gone. There are people around you trying to get to work, to class, to their families, to wherever they’re going, just as you are. Navigating busy city streets is hard enough, but now in addition we all have to press our way around your oversized personal bubble. That’s not a metaphor: it’s a real, cumbersome, plastic mass that moves unpredictably and must be accommodated, moved around, gotten out of the way of.
To make matters worse, each umbrella comes equipped with six to eight long, pokey rods that radiate outward from the center, exactly at eye level. It’s a multidirectional defense mechanism. Cacti grow spikes to keep would-be grazers at a distance; city-folks buy umbrellas for more or less the same reason. Of course, I recognize that umbrellas are not intended to be used as weapons, but we don’t have to look back too far to remember that umbrellas have been used as a fashionable means to conceal swords, daggers, and even pistols. Failing this, a classy umbrella—I’m talking here about a nice one, long and sleek, with decent heft, and perhaps the family crest inlaid in gold in the handle—could double as a club or night stick.
I understand that New York City, like most East Coast cities, is a cold and wet and miserable place. I understand not everyone likes to step outside and feel raindrops on their head. So what’s to be done? My top recommendation is to invest in a decent rain coat. You don’t need to spend a million dollars, but please get something that can be expected to last you more than a season. If you find yourself out and about without it, your next best bet is a good old-fashioned poncho. Ponchos are lightweight, easy to throw in a day bag, they cost next to nothing, and they will keep you drier for longer than an umbrella will. Ran out for the day and the weather’s taken a turn and you forgot your poncho? I hear you. If you absolutely must not get wet (oh, the horror!), do this: stop by a coffee shop or restaurant or drug store and ask them—not for an umbrella!—for a black contractor bag. Poke a hole in the bottom. This is where your head will go. Now poke two holes in the corners for your arms, e voila, poncho! You even get free use of both hands! If you throw it out after a single use, so be it. Better that in the landfill than another umbrella.
If you absolutely must take an umbrella with you, well, I can’t stop you. Please be considerate of others around you, leave your fellow pedestrians with their eyeballs intact, and remember to bring it with you when you go out. Don’t be a serial umbrella replacer. Get a nice one and be proud of it. Maybe you could even hide a dagger in it.
Theodor Gabriel 