The Winter of Our Discontent. Or, Fall.
You know what they say: If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, and if you don’t want to join ‘em, stand in the corner looking dour.
Oh my dears. My heart is so heavy on this last day of August, in which we acknowledge the withering of summer. Every dip in temperature sinks my joy farther along with it.
But! Fall in the Northeast really, truly, is lovely. And the foods, the drinks! In Texas the coming of fall means we merely swap out our cold drinks for slightly less cold drinks, and then keep on truckin’. Can you believe before I moved to New York I didn’t know what an apple cider donut was? I mean it is apple cider in donut form—food and drink united in circular bliss. How the hell did I live my life not aware of its existence?
And of course, there is the ability to dress in layers, as a friend so aptly pointed out when she caught onto my sulking. Wearing a scarf, hat, and gloves in Houston either gets you a side-eye, a sneer, or a sarcastic, “Aw, that’s cute.” Up here though, they’re essential. Fall really is the season of my favorite thing: accessories.
Not that you can tell by the photo, because no, actually I just remembered: fuck fall and the hellish winter it brings in its wake. Fuck it! Fuck all of it! I want to wear short sleeves and breezy pants and feel warm forever! Someone get me on a plane to Bermuda, the hell with this shit!
Zara top and shoes; Nary Manivong pants; H&M necklace