Fall is just around the corner and I am so ready.

I can’t figure out why, but I cannot dress for summer. Its almost like it is too simple for me.

In the fall, you can wear more, yet not quite as much as you would wear in winter when you are bundled up to your ears.

Tights, scarves, the best hats – I really pull all the stops in fall.

I went out on Friday, one of first chilly nights on the town so far, in a grey, calf-length jersey pencil skirt with a beaded pink top and a denim jacket. On my feet were white retro strap back three inch pumps. A giant tear-drop opal necklace tied everything together. It was one of those nights that I truly felt like my essential self.

Don’t get me wrong, I love (and try to dress cute for) summer. I have now three killer rompers and a zillion pairs of shorts. But I lack sundresses and appropriate tops. Something in me just ultimately feels inept at summer style, or at least just a little short of my personal fashion standards.

My boyfriend is a natural fall dresser, as well. I toy with the idea that its one of those little things that brought us together in the cosmos (although we met in summer).

I had a roommate once that lived for winter. She had four full-blown winter coats. I loved the one that was (faux) fur floor length. She had inherited it from her aunt.

I do believe it is very natural to have a time of year that one feels at their most authentic self – fashion is merely one aspect of expressing this. If this sounds a little like horoscope silliness, maybe it is, but I will stand by myself when I say I love it.

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