They say it’s Fall. My Insta feed, Pinterest, the Starbucks PSL ads, and especially all the pumpkins on the porches I pass on my walk to work. This whole tiny town adorably decorates for every occasion, and right now they are determined it’s Fall. Because every corner has a hay bail and a scarecrow guarding its lamp post.
But here’s the thing. It’s 85 degrees. Every day. Still. So I’m gonna have to join the soup eating, leaf jumping, sweater wearing, pumpkin patching brigade later.
This may or may not be an attempt to ensue some of that 60 degree weather to pop on over. You know like when you wash your car and then it rains? Well I’m telling you it’s not Fall… *Fall now enters* (preferably by tomorrow. k thanks). UPDATE: IT WORKED YOU GUYS. I wrote this post two nights ago and woke up this morning to 62 freakin degrees. Brilliant. Now currently running headfirst into all of the Fall-ish situations I previously mentioned with angst.
P.S. This dress really is one of those that you try on and and think UM YES. And the twirl factor is everything, you know?