There are gorgeous hues aplenty floating around in the sky at the moment. Autumn urges you to whack on an oversized, baggy, knit jumper and gad about in the crunchy leaves listening to The Kinks, ‘Autumn Almanac’ and you find yourself jumping around on fast forward like something out of a kooky 90’s Blur music video, if you have time for that sort of thing…
We all faithfully adhere to the whims of the Autumn/Winter Fashion Gods, but what does Autumnal fashion really represent? Is it the magical transition from a luke-warm summer to piss-freezing winter? Yes. Minus the magic. Does it suggest we must all adorn ourselves in burgundies, magentas and maroons? Sure, if you want people to almost register that you look like you’re trying to recreate a Monet landscape, but ultimately the pay-off here is questionable.
Perhaps it’s about gripping on to the warmth of your vanilla chai tea or pumpkin spiced latte cup through your gloves and trying to manage drinking it whilst not looking like a total retard in the latest snood? Perhaps for some. Don’t get me wrong, I bloody love a good Harvest Festival Songs of Praise sing a long, as much as the next person – which you could view as an indirect way of saying I think they’re dry as hell – but what I’m not sure I subscribe to is the hype surrounding a season shift.
Yes, the orangey reddy glows are nice, but let’s face it: the cold sucks, and that’s what’s happening here. It’s getting cold. So we have to try to cope with it as best we can. Reality check; winter is coming, and it is brutal, so wrap up warm, don’t catch a cold, start booking in the soups, parsnips and hot pots, whatever you need to do to survive, but let’s draw a line under all this “isn’t it wonderful” bollocks once and for all shall we?
I’m wearing: Yellow fedora: My Granny’s (vintage), Leopard print shirt: Charity shop, Cable knit jumper: Charity shop, Leaves & roses: My garden’s own.