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IT WASN’T FAIR. I was on summer vacation, and should have been baking in the SoCal sun, sipping from a moisture-beaded bottle of Corona. But I wasn’t. I was shivering. Goosebumps ran up and down my arms, exposed in a flimsy cotton T-shirt. I wondered if any bars along the Venice boardwalk had a fireplace. I was pining for that most underappreciated of summer standbys: a light but, yes, moderately cozy sweater.
Even in the height of summer, there are nights “when it’s still cold and people still need to layer up,” said…