Autumn always makes me nostalgic. And anytime I’m feeling that way, I take a few minutes to lingeringly peruse old photos, comparing my memories vs. level of sincerity of facial expression, the length of my perpetually-trying-to-grow-it-out hair, and my past personal trends.
I’ve noticed as I’ve moved to various cities that my style changes with me. A lot of it depends on climate of course, but my backdrop and mood seem to feed my sartorial choices the most.
In Tucson I rocked almost nothing but very (very) short floral dresses or flowy chiffon tops, cowboy boots and big earrings, all in romantic washed out desert shades of beige, pale blue and pink and sealed with a matte bright orange kiss.
In LA I was overcome with the urge for some classic pieces, and gravitated toward a basic palette with playful, colorful accessories.
After moving to Oakland in August, comfort has taken top priority, so I’m sticking with jewel tones and cozy layers.
But I still have all the othertownly stuff! My favorite pair of cowboy boots are perfect for a stroll in the desert, but in northern California they just don’t look right. Nor do I feel appropriately dressed here in pastel florals or carrying a bright handbag (and not just because it seems to be shouting “steal me!”). I need to match my city. And though no one ever said the Bay Area isn’t colorful, it takes a lot to get me into brights. It takes LA.
So what’s to become of my discarded loves in this new gray world? I’ll wear them in LA and in Tucson, because I can’t stand to stay put. I have visits planned for Christmas! And springtime! And those LA duds will transfer quite nicely when Amber and I find a couple of cheap flights to New York. I’ll just trade the stripes in for something less casual and add in my Oakland warmies. I think after purging my entire closet last August, I’ve actually built up enough variation to feel right at home in most towns.
One day, however, I will finally end up in New Orleans, and all the lace in the world won’t be enough.