Okay, Summertime, You Can Be Over Now.

On August 1st, it happened: I became officially done with summer.

I must admit that I made it an admirable distance this year. Usually, I’m flush and fainting after the first time that the mercury climbs past 75F. I can’t believe that I made it two whole, full, round months without anything really resembling a true complaint about the heat. In a creepily adult manner, I just shut my mouth and dealt with it.

But now, I’m done dealing. I’m waiting with baited breath to surrender the sundresses, sequester the sandals, and cast out all color. I want fall and cool and ALL BLACK EVERYTHING.

I’m crushing on coldtimes so hard that I even made this Polyvore set- the only one I have ever, ever made- to help me pretend that we are in deep fall and I get to wear whatever the hell I want.

This fall, I want to wear my hairs tucked all up in a Greek fisherman’s cap and block out my face with some giant-ass hangover shades, even though I don’t really plan on being hung over. Sometimes, I want to go incognito. Sometimes, I want to dress like grandma and grandpa all at the same time.

Clark, you old salt!

I want to zip all of my insecurities up in my kinda-heinous, totally stinky, black, pleather jacket that I bought from Target last year when I was supposed to be working. I want to tuck my keys into a secure pocket and zip it closed before heading off on my bicycle, roads now cleared of fair weather cyclists. I want to find coins and whole dollars in the lining because those pockets aren’t really all that secure.

I want to wear cozy, black sweaters in cashmere and angora. Short in the waist with bracelet-length sleeves. Not quite as boxy as above and only an inch or two looser than Joan Collins’.

Don’t worry. I’ve invested in the anti-gravity bra to go with it.

And some sort of pant, slim and stretch-y-ish. Enough dresses and skirts for now, just give me something to cover my legs. I might try and break my sworn vow that dresses shalt never be worn as pants or I might just hit up the mom-pants section of Saver’s and try to find some not-too-offensive black capris. Colette Patterns has the best pattern for a classy pair of cigarette pants but I’m going to keep a toe to reality; I know that I would never get around to fitting and sewing them before the first snowfall. Shame.

I want a selection of shoes. Nice ones! Quality ones! I actually own the two black pairs pictured and their acquisition at deep discount makes their presence all the more sweet. I’m not a total “shoes!” girl but I have such a snobbish love of good basics. Like, I can’t dunk but I have good fundamentals. (Lies! I can’t play basketball at all!) More than a selection of shoes, I need a selection of lipsticks. When traveling, I am working to go as light as possible. However, there are two items that I will always pack a selection of: lipsticks and eyeglasses. Being able to put on your personality is an important thing.

In my mind, this ends at a junction. I want to be where Ann Margret:

Meets Hanoi Jane:

Step aside, summer. I don’t think that I’m asking for too much.

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