Have you ever had an idea that, when thinking about it in retrospect, you realize if you had known then what you know now, you never would have started it? (the wave skirt comes to mind…) That’s a long winded way of saying my latest sewing project started as a sketch that seemed very doable, and yet took more hours and more steps than should ever be humanly possible.
When I was little, one of the biggest treats was getting to visit my Mimere (our name for grandmother). She called it our “bonding time” and always made me feel so special. The pantry was always stocked with my favorite cereal (Cinnamon Toast Crunch – dubbed a “sugar cereal” and therefore forbidden in my house), let me watch Pretty Woman (though put a pillow over my face during the rude bits), and would stroke my hair until I fell asleep.
Well, it’s officially September. And even though we are still experiencing pretty sweltering temps some days here in NC, I’m already dreaming of layers and hot chocolate and leaves crunching underfoot. What can I say? I’m almost always in an autumn frame of mind.
I don’t know what it is about summer, but I swear the months conspire to move at different speeds. I always seem to glide lazily through June, sipping mules from copper mugs and meeting friends for outdoor BBQs. July is always on a mission, moving forward with a blink-and-I’ll-miss-it ferocity, and August barely even seems to exist, her eyes already on autumn and the start of a new school year.
You know when you see someone – either while scrolling IG or walking past you in the street – and they’re wearing something that stops you in your tracks? Where you can almost feel yourself start to salivate and it’s taking everything in your being not to chase them down and demand to know where they got it? I mean, I’m sure we’ve all experienced that special sartorial greener-pastures lust, where you truly believe for a minute that life would be perfect if only you could find that garment. Yeah well, what happens if the woman in question you’ve walked…
One of my most vivid childhood memories is of autumn. My grandmother had this massive maple tree in her backyard and every fall we would bundle into the car to her house to help her rake the leaves. I remember there were so many that I could stand almost knee deep in what had fallen to the ground. We would spend the afternoon raking them into even greater piles, jumping into the crisp signs of autumn with abandon. I remember moving them one pile at a time over the fence into the wooded area behind her yard.
We have most certainly entered a time honored autumnal tradition: Sweater Weather. And I am happy to report, this delightful time of year even occurs in the South. While I love the gentle breeze of Spring and the warm evenings of Summer, there is something about weather that encourages you to bundle up and get cozy (minus the risk of frostbite) that gets me so excited. So, this time of year I inevitably start to scan the horizon for the perfect autumnal sweater.
Despite the fact that it’s 90 degrees outside, the minute the fall semester starts, my brain immediately clicks into autumn mode, and my wardrobe quickly follows suit. I think it’s been this way since childhood – whether the crisp temperatures have caught up or not, there is just a feeling that comes with a new school year. Without fail, late August always brought with it shiny new trapper keepers and as-yet-unused pens. Fresh fears and new possibilities. You can practically clock the smell of the academic anxiety as clearly as a you can identify the smell of new box of…
I grew up in New England, where differentiated seasons abound. This means we plowed through 2 ft snow drifts in winter, melted in the summer heat, and watched the world bloom around us in spring. But, my favorite season was always fall. One of my most vivid childhood memories was always of that first crisp fall weekend, where my family and I would make a trip to the apple orchards to find the most perfect pie-worthy apples to commemorate autumn.
The changing of the seasons is always such an interesting time of year. Here in NC, it’s almost like a constant stop and start. Ohhh, yay, it’s Autumn! Nope, just kidding, Summer…. Hello Fall! Well, that was a nice hour, but let’s go back to a sweltering 90 degrees. As crazy as the to and fro can be, I’ve decided to just roll with the punches and revel in the fact that my summer sundresses get another few weeks of freedom. I mean, if NC wants to be in bloom in October, who am I to argue?