The recent weather fluctuations have certainly made it more of a challenge to dress appropriately. Last week I had to pull some lighter-colored, lighter-weight pants out of warm-weather storage, and on a couple of days I didn't bother to wear socks. (I did consider wearing shorts on Thursday, but decided against it.)
I recall a spell of March weather like this when I was in college; I specifically remember taking a bike ride along the river, and getting a cold a couple of days later.
By yesterday morning, I was back to wearing a hat, scarf, and gloves with my wool-lined corduroy coat. Truthfully, I prefer it this way. I can never be as comfortable in warmer weather regardless of what I wear, and I just prefer outfits and looks that include a piece of outerwear or a sport jacket.
I do enjoy a spot of nicer weather during an otherwise cool season, but that was too much, too abruptly. The Mrs. had an even worse time than I did; she was irritable and had trouble sleeping for several days because of the unexpected warmth.
I recently reread The Great Gatsby, and found myself wondering how men and women tolerated the multiple layers of clothing they wore in earlier eras, even during the summer months, and at a time when most people did not have air conditioning in their homes, or even in their workplaces.
Given the dramatic fluctuations in the weather patterns of the past decade or so, I think we have to expect that abnormal will be the new normal.