Tag Archives: the gimmies

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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Izola.

How did I miss out on Izola? Do you have any idea how much I need a vaguely expensive-yet-visually-delightful reminder to change up my toothbrush every few months?

This is the kind of task that becomes a real point of discussion in our household.

Ah. Soap-as-a-trope! I’m almost willing to suspend my disbelief that this is actually about substance over style. But what nice style it is!

I’m just such an easy mark.

And thus, very easily marketed to.

Playing not only into my love of text but also my love of promotional hankies and bandanas!

You can tell that we are soul mates because we use the same font.

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