In winter I start to experience lust as always-already thwarted -- not by winter clothing (c'mon) but by my own inward-retreating lethargy or self-protectiveness or body shame or something. I don't look at women on the street in the same way as in spring.
I expect porn websites do brisk business in winter.
(I do gaze longingly at my wife in winter, of course, because I'm still stupid in love with her; and because my desire for my wife, this galaxy of needs, is a hell of lot more complex than the anyway-reductive notion of 'physical attraction.' But my lethargy and retreat and shame do bear directly on our relationship in other ways (see below).)
When the weather breaks I feel more confident, permit myself to look at other people with confidence, and my own confidence invests them with some new energy: I trust in (my perception of?) their beauty. Something like that. Maybe I just enjoy the pull. The force all living beings exert, myself included.
Cambridge is getting some stunningly nice weather at the moment. I'm reminded that a 'new look' for springtime isn't about your appearance, it's about literally looking anew at the human beings around you.
So this isn't actually about lust; lust is just an example of the feelings which I stop second-guessing when the sun comes out. One of the disorders I experience in winter is loss of trust. The sun returns, trust is restored, and I feel attractive -- attraction -- again. Gravity is symmetrical, duh.
