Last summer when it was equally as dreadful outside I went to a buzzy downtown cocktail bar. I'm basically Elsa and adore the cold and loathe the heat. So I wore nice khaki shorts, a short sleeve button down, wonderful glitter designer loafers, and paired it all with a lovely brooch. When I got there the condescension from the front of house staff was shocking. They said I was in violation of their dress code about no men in shorts and could only seat me away from the main cocktail room because of it. I wanted to argue about the fact that women were allowed in shorts and skirts, but didn't care enough because I was more interested in a drink and catching up with my friend, plus it was quieter in the section we ended up in. But the entire evening I observed that the attire of the men they did allow in was dreadful and schlubby, yet was fine as long as they were in jeans, but apparently an affront to be well put together in shorts. I'll never go back.
The deeply antiquated ideals about how people dress in public when the world is on fire is shockingly stupid and crass.