Heat Wave

The heat has descended upon us, at least for the time being, and on Saturday I was finally able to throw on a dress without layers and tights and jackets and worries.

For that first stretch of warmth, I pulled out a dark blue cotton dress that I bought at The Gap two years ago. The plan for the day was to wander the Brooklyn Flea with a friend. (A place where I, surprisingly, always end up eating and never shopping.) I took a window seat in a nearby coffee shop and waited for my friend to arrive. My iced coffee wasn't long for this world and The Village Voice that had been left by the seat's previous occupant only held my attention intermittently. I spent most of my time trying not to look at the cute boy who took the seat next to mine and watching everyone enjoy the warm weather on the sidewalk in front of me.

Everyone goes a bit crazy during that first warm weekend. Shorts and skirts and tanks are pulled from the recesses of closets and dressers and thrown together in eye-searing combinations. This is why I chose a dress. Simple. Easy. I didn't give myself the chance to throw on every warm weather piece of clothing I own in a hot weather frenzy. No walking shorts with espadrilles with tank top with cropped cardigan with brightly-colored purse with three bangles and a headband. It was time to feel out the warmth. To decide what could be salvaged from last Spring and Summer. To really get down to the business of cleaning out my closet.

Well I would eventually get down to the business of cleaning. I first had to attend to the eye-searing colors in the snow cone I bought from the ice cream truck parked outside of the Flea.