It’s been unbearably hot and stuffy this week over in our little corner of the world, and the weather doesn’t exactly sit well with me. I’ve always been more of an autumn/winter kind of girl, cuddled up in front of a heater in the midst of a frosty spell, soaking in the wondrous gloomy day and feeling incredible. The eight years I spent living in Melbourne were a veritable god-send and the perfect habitat for a sun-hater: moody skies for miles on end, a weather that’s temperamentally menopausal, and a voracious wind tunnel at every turn that I’ll admit, used to piss the living crap out of me whilst I was actually living there, but which is now something that I miss terribly.
In comparison, the sun makes me feel listless and moody, and if you’ve never lived at/near the Equator, then you will never understand my sentiment. Never.
I am waiting desperately for monsoon season, when the days are obnoxiously wet in a continuous downpour of rain. If I can’t have winter, then I’ll take whatever else I can get even if it means there’s a high chance of me getting drenched in the process.
Desperate times call for desperate wishes.
What I would wear on a rainy day if I could, because that poncho-cape thing is unbelievably chic.
It needs to add itself to my closet somehow.
Also, in reality, I’d most likely be wearing flats, because my feet don’t like being encased in towering heels for too long.