Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring. - Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s
It’s still eighty-something degrees outside and yet I’m wading in projects for a winter wonderland. The holidays are all around me. I’m writing about it on assignment, working on holiday cards for the store and doing holiday photo shoots for clients. I gaze longingly at the sweaters and tights and the boots collecting dust in my closet and then shut the door. I wonder if it will ever be cold again. Ever. I’ve taken to Pinterest, creating boards of things I can’t wait to wear.
This time last year I was in Vancouver, loving every minute of the colder temps, the rain, the not-LA-ness of it all. I love LA, I do. But as I sit here, writing about holidays past and penning card designs, I wish I could tell the change of season by more than just the arrival of pumpkin lattes at Starbucks.
Hurry up fall. I’m waiting. xo a.
