When global warming blesses New York with a 72-hour-long spell of 80-degrees-and-sunny the final weekend of September, we celebrate by whipping out the palm tree print and crop tops and frolicking gleefully in the sun.
The recent weather has me almost forgetting that soon enough, the city will look like this (minus my hat. I had a few pretty significant revelations when stumbling, disoriented, into the latter half of my twenties earlier this summer, one of the larger ones being the devastating conclusion that despite repeated efforts for two and a half decades now, I simply cannot wear hats).
It’s been a summer of extensive and excellent adventures and I plan to soak up every last second of strategically placed slits and afternoons spent bouncing from backyard to patio to rooftop before it becomes so cold that my desire to see humans in three dimensions outside my television set is strongly outweighed by my desire to burrito myself into a blanket and Seamless 100% of my meals.
Outfit and photo credits after the jump.
Photos By: Olivia Edwards