Summer always ends early in Paris. Just two weeks ago I was crawling around the city sunbathing in parks, licking gelato, and peaking in shop windows. All the summer sun had gone to my head. It left me thinking that the sweet sticky life would never end, but now the rain is back and it's getting chilly. I no longer toss and turn in the night because the aid of my small electric fan is not enough to keep me cool. I pull sun dresses I forgot to wear out of my closet just to gently put them back hoping that maybe, just maybe, there will be one more sunny day before Fall begins. I care less about the chipped polish on my toes and if I forget my sunglasses at home, it's okay. The other day, at the peak of the crushing realization that I may not get to show off my tanned legs for a while, I put on the shortest pair of shorts I could find. The pair every lady owns. The ones that scream "I love you Summer!".
Even though I felt like I was fighting the good fight, the one that encouraged the sun to shine on, the shorts didn't stop the sky from being overcast or the light drizzle or the soft wind chills. Now it's only appropriate to wear them around my apartment, accompanied with a cozy sweater, fluffy socks, and a mug of tea while I listen to the rain hit the pavement. Now it's only a matter of time before,
PC: Gabriela Wilson