It's fall now, and all I want to talk to anyone about anywhere is clothes, because dressing for fall is far more interesting than dressing for any other season. It's difficult to keep myself from steering all conversation to the merits of dusty pink tights and mustard cardigans and my foray into high-waisted skirts and slightly hilarious pirate-y boots. I'm finally getting the hang of the whole layering thing--they should give you an introductory class in it when you move out of the South, because it does not come naturally--and clothes make life so interesting.
The weather is not yet cooperating, of course, which is making me growly. I'm impatient for piles of leaves and hugging boys in cozy charcoal sweaters and making soup. The spiders are packing up and moving inside, but the outside places are just not paying attention yet. I am restless, and waiting for something to happen.
(PS, I made it through a Monotonix show, and nothing even got lit on fire.)
No comments:
Post a Comment