Goodbye, Summer. Hello, Pants.
Fall is officially here. The trees are changing, the breeze has a bit of a bite to it, and the Pumpkin Spice Latte People have emerged with their scarves and oversized sweaters.
Also the cats have decided it’s time to sleep under the covers instead of on top of them.
So far, this is what fall looks like on the water in Seattle:
Not too shabby, huh?
As beautiful as this is, I’ll admit that I’ve always been a summer person. Since I’ve moved to Seattle where we actually have seasons, I’ve come to appreciate summer even more. In my determination to take full advantage of the season, I created a No Pants Policy for myself, which extends from the beginning of April through the end of September. That’s right…six months of dresses and skirts, only!
Of course, I do make exceptions when the activity calls for it, like going to the gym, boating, or scooting. But for the most part, NO PANTS.
In my closet, a summertime No Pants Policy looks like this:
It may not look like a lot in the photo, but I could remove the rod the clothes are hanging on, and I’m fairly certain they’d stay exactly where they are.
Many of these dresses are trusty old friends I get to enjoy year over year, but the rare dresses that cycle out generally end up in loving new homes somewhere in the Seattle Lindy Hop community or at Jubilee Women’s Center.
Dresses make me happy because I like feeling casually fancy. Summer dresses make me particularly happy because they are the easiest! No leggings or tights. No socks. I just toss on a dress, slip into my favorite sandals, and stuff a cardigan in my bag. Done! (Bonus: extra ventilation for dancing.)
At the end of every summer, I feel a little twinge of sadness as I resurrect my leggings, resurface my scarves, and panic over my serious lack of warm fuzzy socks. I’m grateful I’ll be able to wear many of my dresses into the fall, but I will miss the ease of not needing to layer.
So, farewell for now, warm summery weather. I will miss you and and the freedom you bring. Until we meet again, I’ll console myself with boots, old man cardigans, and fingerless mits. And pants.