Custom Coats, Cold Streets: Mayor Mamdani’s Deadly Winter Neglect

Paul Riverbank, 2/4/2026Mayor Mamdani faces criticism as deadly blizzard exposes leadership failures and PR missteps.

It wasn’t just the subzero temperatures that turned harsh. Over a dozen New Yorkers didn’t survive the cold, city officials acknowledged—most of them found outside, huddled steps away from shelter. The mayor’s team, meanwhile, found themselves defending not just policy but wardrobe. Mamdani’s Carhartt jacket—custom-tailored, campaign motto stitched right into the lining—ended up appearing in nearly as many headlines as the mayor himself. One of those details people latch onto: the mayor’s wife, Rama Duwaji, had picked it out, adding that personal stitch as a gesture. The press had a field day. Social media, even more so.

Critics lined up fast, and they came armed. “Maybe if they spent less time on embroidery and more checking on those freezing outside, people would still be alive,” said one political strategist, not bothering to hide his scorn. “All this talk of socialist ideals and collective warmth—what does that look like when so many are left in the cold?” asked another, barely pausing for breath. As photos of the jacket zipped across X, arguments flared over whether leadership should be felt in thread count or street clearing.

Somewhere in between, actress Debra Messing—yes, from 'Will & Grace'—posted a picture from her gridlocked car. No one cared much about celebrity during a crisis, except perhaps that her words echoed what thousands felt: roads impassable, sirens uselessly wailing in unmoving traffic, neighbors watching the clock as hours ticked by without a plow in sight. “It’s been five days since the last flake,” she typed, the kind of comment that frustrates politicians and reassures ordinary people they’re not imagining things.

On the political front, the matter became, inevitably, about optics versus substance. Accusations flew that Mamdani, a proud Democratic Socialist, was more concerned with ideology and image than with salt trucks or partnering city agencies. “There’s an obsession with looking the part—less so with playing it,” a rival’s campaign manager grumbled to anyone who’d listen. There was biting humor, too: a meme suggested distributing custom jackets to the city’s homeless, all paid for by a so-called trust fund.

The snow, the trash, and the anger kept piling up. By week’s end, sidewalks in the outer boroughs still looked all but abandoned. Stories multiplied—elderly Manhattanites trapped in their apartments, delivery drivers slipping on concealed ice, crews trying to work double shifts while equipment failed.

And at the heart of it, that stitched slogan: “No problem too big. No task too small.” These words, meant to project confidence, now sounded more like a challenge than reassurance.

For many New Yorkers, survival this winter demanded more than a catchphrase. The debates show no sign of quieting—the next crisis, as always, feels just a forecast away.

Anyone walking down the windswept avenues of New York City after last week’s blizzard could be forgiven for thinking they’d stumbled into a freeze-frame. Snowdrifts hugged the curbs, garbage bags stacked up like makeshift barricades, and sidewalk passersby clutched their coats closer against the chill. All of this set the stage for the latest storm to hit City Hall—and Mayor Zohran Mamdani was at the center, both literally and symbolically.It wasn’t just the subzero temperatures that turned harsh. Over a dozen New Yorkers didn’t survive the cold, city officials acknowledged—most of them found outside, huddled steps away from shelter. The mayor’s team, meanwhile, found themselves defending not just policy but wardrobe. Mamdani’s Carhartt jacket—custom-tailored, campaign motto stitched right into the lining—ended up appearing in nearly as many headlines as the mayor himself. One of those details people latch onto: the mayor’s wife, Rama Duwaji, had picked it out, adding that personal stitch as a gesture. The press had a field day. Social media, even more so.Critics lined up fast, and they came armed. “Maybe if they spent less time on embroidery and more checking on those freezing outside, people would still be alive,” said one political strategist, not bothering to hide his scorn. “All this talk of socialist ideals and collective warmth—what does that look like when so many are left in the cold?” asked another, barely pausing for breath. As photos of the jacket zipped across X, arguments flared over whether leadership should be felt in thread count or street clearing.Somewhere in between, actress Debra Messing—yes, from 'Will & Grace'—posted a picture from her gridlocked car. No one cared much about celebrity during a crisis, except perhaps that her words echoed what thousands felt: roads impassable, sirens uselessly wailing in unmoving traffic, neighbors watching the clock as hours ticked by without a plow in sight. “It’s been five days since the last flake,” she typed, the kind of comment that frustrates politicians and reassures ordinary people they’re not imagining things.On the political front, the matter became, inevitably, about optics versus substance. Accusations flew that Mamdani, a proud Democratic Socialist, was more concerned with ideology and image than with salt trucks or partnering city agencies. “There’s an obsession with looking the part—less so with playing it,” a rival’s campaign manager grumbled to anyone who’d listen. There was biting humor, too: a meme suggested distributing custom jackets to the city’s homeless, all paid for by a so-called trust fund.The snow, the trash, and the anger kept piling up. By week’s end, sidewalks in the outer boroughs still looked all but abandoned. Stories multiplied—elderly Manhattanites trapped in their apartments, delivery drivers slipping on concealed ice, crews trying to work double shifts while equipment failed.And at the heart of it, that stitched slogan: “No problem too big. No task too small.” These words, meant to project confidence, now sounded more like a challenge than reassurance.For many New Yorkers, survival this winter demanded more than a catchphrase. The debates show no sign of quieting—the next crisis, as always, feels just a forecast away.