hello fall
In San Francisco there is always a fine line between Indian Summer and actual fall. One week you might find yourself half naked in the 85 degree heat on Ocean Beach, and you don't even think its weird that its early October. The next week its foggy in the mornings, and crisply cold all day, except for that one hour in the afternoon when your skin radiates with "Its sunny!!" joy. As we reluctantly start to order our drinks hot versus iced, notice the over-saturation of "Pumpkin Spiced" anything, and add layers upon layers of knits, we accept the bitter transition from summer to autumn.
From Fashion Week(s), to detailed dressing, fall is obviously a fashion-lover's season. Every year I look forward to the moment I can bust out my favorite coats, sweaters, and boots, but I still miss summer. Of course its the weather, and the extra hours of sunlight, but I also find myself missing the effortless accoutrements (or lack there of) from summer dressing. I simply don't care if I wear the same French-inspired horizontal striped AA romper every single day, and nor do you when I've got my summer glow and messy hair.
Sweater: Lucky Brand, Shirt: Elizabeth and James, Jeans: J Brand, Shoes: Freda Salvador, Bag: Celine Trio Bag
Maybe the cold is getting to me, but is it possible that our philosophies about getting dressed change with the seasons? It must be something about the fact that I feel like I need help every time I get dressed lately, simply because my little romper just won't cut it anymore. For this look I put my best foot forward, at least in a pair of Freda Salvadors, along with my white Elizabeth and James button-down, my trusty boyfriend jeans, and the giant sweater/blanket/coat hybrid I begrudgingly added on top because its just too cold. However now that it is officially time to layer, this begs the question that I haven't been able to ask since nipples became a runway staple (aka forever):
Is it also bra-optional season?
Answer: ALWAYS. There's nothing more chic than some casual nipple, especially when its cold out.
Jackie Groffman