Last week, I was with a group of friends when one of them furrowed their brow (quite a feat given her Botox usage) and she gestured despairingly at the handbag I was carrying. She asked, "Should you be carrying this bag now that it's fall?" Hey, this handbag is one of my lucky purchases--a white leather Cole Hahn doctor's bag that I got for a steal at a sample sale in the Village. Lined in turquoise and with sharp detailing, it's a favored companion. She went on, "It's after Labor Day. No white after Labor Day. Ever. You should know better."

My mother had the same old world superstition about wearing white after Labor Day. She would reel in disgust at the sight of a white shoe or bag or article of clothing (unless it was a sweater) once that September holiday had transpired. I believe she thought, in almost peasant-like fashion, that if you dared to flaunt convention and appear in public in white in the heart of fall or (gasp) winter, that you would develop stigmata of fashion disobedience all over your body. I don't know the actual penance violators would actually have to endure, but she was damn near religious about upholding this particular cultural tenet.

While there is a point where the sandals and espadrilles and other obvious summer trappings need to be packed away, I disagree that white in general should be limited to hot summer months. Granted, lack of a tan in winter never looks as good with white as a summer tan does, but the overall notion of no white is an archaic fashion ideology...and one that needs to be banished now.

Where does this ritual come from? A brief snapshot from our learned friends at Wikipedia helps clarify this issue:

An old custom prohibits the wearing of white after Labor Day. The custom is rooted in nothing more than popular fashion etiquette. In actuality, the etiquette originally stated that white shoes were the taboo while white or "winter white" clothes were acceptable. This custom is fading from popularity as it continues to be questioned and challenged, particularly by leaders in the fashion world. Fashion magazines are jumping on this growing trend, calling people who 'dare' to wear white after Labor Day innovative, creative, and bold. Slowly but surely, white is beginning to break free from its box, and is becoming acceptable to wear whenever one pleases. This etiquette is also compared to the Canadian fashion rule of not wearing green after Remembrance Day.

(Leave it to the Canadians to use green as their taboo color. Christ. Love them, love their beer, love Montreal, but come on, people. Green? They couldn't pick magenta?).

Listen, if fashion arbiters think wearing white after Labor Day means one is innovative, creative and bold, then I am going out at lunch tomorrow and buying that DKNY snow white trench coat I've lusted after and I'm going to flaunt it like a whore in church. Watch me.