dress: free people (similar: one, two, three, four) // purse: target // tights + fox ring: h&m // flats: thrifted
Good things so often hinge on their transience. The warmth of a hot latte, clean sheets, puppy love, new socks, autumn. Life itself.
I am always willing the fall to stop in its track, to linger in its own felled twigs and leaves. Earth looks good in these hues -- the natural oxbloods and burnt beiges, in the light that, like magic, colors itself a bit more golden. I can hardly drink it in before it slips into winter. And autumn, like the earth and like me gets covered up, buried in snow. It becomes something else.
There is something deep-seated in the human heart that makes us all love autumn I think. The same something that makes us miss it before it's even over.