Fall Back

In terms of unfortunate humidity and insufferable heat, this summer hasn't been all that bad. Of course that could mean that Earth is really, truly and sincerely fucked, but hey, at least my hair hasn't devolved into a bird's nest.

I kid. I kid.

Sitting at a bar this week, someone mentioned that it smells like fall. I had to agree. Fall, as I've mentioned at least three times, is my favorite season. Especially for clothing. My black skinny cords from Uniqlo hang in my closet saying Take us out and wear us, maybe with your tall black boots. I'm quickly growing tired of my summer clothes. I want sweaters and tights. I want to be motivated to finish the scarf I started knitting last year. The one made with the thin, soft and peachy yarn that had been sitting unused for at least two years prior.

This is all I've been thinking about for the past few weeks. In the small hallway near the door of my apartment, there is a nook that can hold coats of guests for the many parties that I never have. Instead of waiting for the coats of strangers, it is filled with mine. Blazers and Jackets and Trenches. Occasionally I pull out the new belted blazer I got at H&M and walk around trying it on with with my jeans, skinny and wide.


As a child I used to be anxious for new notebooks and sharp pencils. Now I dream of long cardigans and stacked boots.


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