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It starts in mid-June. In a corner of the clothing section, your favorite department store displays a rack or two of down-filled winter jackets. You ignore it. Perhaps they got an early delivery of fall clothes and didn't have room to store it. Surely they do not intend to sell this merchandise now -- when summer has barely begun.

But right after July 4, fall and winter items -- corduroys and woolens, gloves and scarves, sweaters and parkas -- begin to make their appearance in stores. At the same time, newspapers advertise Clearance Sales. Everything for summer is on sale. Even if they were not on sale, the shorts, shirts, tank tops and summer separates are all picked over. A full array of sizes and colors is no longer available because they first came on the market in February when snow was on the ground.

Each day the stock of fall and winter merchandise increases. But try to get an unlined, lightweight jacket or some cropped pants in July when you might want one to take them on vacation. Sorry -- you can't. The time to get such items was in February when temperatures were in the teens. Apparently many people did because they are all sold out now.

At this moment, when your bones have finally unkinked in the heat of summer, when your body is basking in the warmth of this lovely season at last, the stores are trying to tell you that it's time to plan for fall. "Transitional clothes" are what they are suggesting. The sleeves may be short or long, but the colors are the colors of autumn and winter -- burgundy, teal, forest green, navy, black, and brown.

I'm just beginning to share summer flowers and fireflies, butterflies and birds with my grandchildren. Is this the time to think about buying snowsuits for them? How can I be sure of the exact size a growing child will need in November?

I look at fall displays and something in me cries out, "Please, don't rush me. I'm not ready yet!" I'm starting to enjoy my summer wardrobe again. My closet is a riot of color. Polka dots, stripes, tropical prints, and solids in lemon yellow, apricot, raspberry, mint green, aqua, and lilac dance before my eyes each morning. White pants and skirts mix with colorful tops to form an endless variety of lovely combinations. It's a delight to get dressed each day.

I can't even think of wool and corduroy now. The very idea makes my skin itch.

One day I actually see a rack of fake fur coats in a department store. Now -- while I'm slurping watermelon as my freckles pop -- I could not be less interested in furs. Now -- when I'm enjoying the feel of crisp grass tickling the soles of my bare feet -- they want me to consider long suede boots that zip up to the knees? The days sizzle, the nights are hot and I am offered flannel sheets!

What's the hurry? Why push the seasons? Why do we go along with this? Because we are unable to buy what we need when we need it, and are forced to buy three to four months in advance in order to get a complete selection for the coming season. Hence the ludicrous picture of a bare-legged woman in tank top, shorts, and sandals, beads of moisture rolling down her face, trying on a fur jacket she doesn't need until at least November. Try buying a raincoat with zip-out lining in March when you would like to wear it. That item sold out by Columbus Day.

Even if you are willing to buy winter items now, why must the colors be so dark? Who decrees that corduroys and woolens for winter must be so somber and dull? Why can't more manufacturers provide corduroys in coral, pink and pale blue?

They've got us trained so well: "Buy now; you won't get it later." That's the retail philosophy. Consumers should rebel and not buy until the need arises and refuse the dull, cheerless clothing altogether. Why not demand the pretty colors that do so much for winter doldrums?

I want to enjoy the summer in all its glory while it's here. Winter comes soon enough and lasts too long. This year, because of the recession, manufacturers and merchants are pushing us even harder than usual but, as consumers, let's send strong messages to them with our purchasing decisions: "Let me enjoy today. You'll just have to wait until I'm ready to buy. Don't rush me. Don't push the seasons."

For everything there is a time. Let me enjoy each season. This is the time for summer. And, when this season is over, I'll see if I like what's offered for the next one. If not, I'll wear last year's clothes -- if they fit!