"seasonal excuses for self-indulgence"
I've been wondering if we have skipped Autumn all together and are headed full-pelt for Winter this year? It is, in fact, September - the leaves are falling, the jackets are appearing, and we are once again allowed to wrap up in cosy knitwear and be a little more relaxed with our leg-shaving duties (awh, come on, don't lie to me ladies). Putting clothing reasons aside (although that is particularly difficult for me to do, since plaid shirts and rich red lipsticks are practically my raison d'etre), here are some of the best things about this time of year.
Autumn is fire-smoke in the air and sticky-smokey food, maple syrup, train trips through golden countryside, chilli flakes, and fluffy socks. Autumn is chai lattes, sweet and spicy and filling your nose with that cinnamon scent, and the bubbling joy caused by Starbucks releasing their red cups. All the good TV series return, the heavy stuff, the ones you can get lost in (I'm lookin' at'chu Homeland), the period dramas. But also it suddenly feels acceptable, nay, obligatory, to rewatch old favourites; Gossip Girl (even though you know what happens) and of course My So Called Life (Angela Chase & Jordan Catalano before they were Carrie Matheson and rock god Jared Leto, and school corridors, and all that FLANNEL. I mean, it literally is autumn in a show). It feels acceptable to cook casserole and stew with herby dumplings and bake crusty bread (not that summer holds me back on the baked goods front, but its definately ok now). I want to stomp around in lace up boots and dare the drizzle to do its best. I want to listen to Tom Odell. It's the time of year dedicated to new starts - if, like me, you've moved away to study (again) this seems sharper than ever before. But think of the fresh, lined notebooks you loved at school, as yet undented by biro, and watch the nights fade in, as summer fades away.
Alice). Bobbing in the background, I've already brought autumn to my flat with some dark Blackcurrant jam, and a Next Home reed diffuser in 'New York', a housewarming present from my mama. It smells divine.