Wednesday, September 7, 2011
works cited: thrifted jacket; lands end canvas dress; thrifted belt; steve madden boots; thrifted bag (are you getting sick of it yet?); socks c/o american apparel; breda watch
I know some people find discussions of the weather boring, however, I am not in their camp. I grew up in the Bay Area, where for several months in the 7th grade, I thought the thermometer on my REI backpack was broken (turns out it is always 65 degrees, whether it is June or January). In short, weather was boring growing up because there was no weather. Subsequently, my mother (East coast native) and I developed an obsession with extreme weather and would spend hours watching the Weather Channel and going to see every bad natural disaster movie Hollywood released in the 1990's (Twister, Dante's Peak, The Day After Tomorrow). In the past few years, I've been living in parts of the country where the weather actually varies, which is a source of great joy to my mother, who frequently has me describe the current weather patterns to her over the phone. Ergo, she is always the first person to get my text message photo of the recent snowfall or to stay on the phone with me while I hunker down in the basement during a tornado and she checks the radar on the weather channel, safe behind her desk in overcast 65-degree Berkeley weather. East coast weather is endlessly fascinating to me because it is so variable, and I've come to love the changing leaves in the fall and the surprise winter snowstorms and the super-hot summer days. But on days like yesterday--65 degrees and cozily rainy--I think maybe Berkeley wouldn't be a bad place to end up after all.