Giving up sandals for boots was easy. I like boots. I own far too many pairs, and as soon as there was a hint of chill in the air, I was online, searching for new granny boots. I bought some in black; now I want them in brown, but the choice is between them and a bookshelf/hutch sort of thing for the kitchen.
Sadly, the boots will have to wait.
But admitting it’s cool enough to wear boots is easier than admitting it’s cool enough to start wearing a jacket. I finally sucked it up today and put on my black raincoat. It’s a new raincoat, one I bought on sale at the beginning of the summer. I really like it (although it could use a belt or one of those clips you stick on the back to cinch the waist a bit; it’s a little big…).
But putting it on means I’m conceding the end of summer. Granted, it’s October 9th. It’s been fall for a while now, and it’s probably my favorite season, so I’m not exactly whining. It’s just that I went through my closets and drawers a couple of months ago and got rid of stuff I didn’t wear or didn’t like.
How many things have I bought and kept because “well, it’ll do for now…?” I’m realizing I gave a ton of fall clothes to Goodwill, and now I have less autumn-type stuff than I thought I did. Plenty of summer, plenty for winter. Not a lot in-between. Which means a bit of shopping. I’m a terrible shopper (unless it’s shoes. Then I’m your girl.)
Reason number eleventy-billion and two why I need to open a bookstore: I’d control the dress-code.
At least I get to break the denim duster back out of the closet.