The wind woke me up last night, that was the first sign. I crawled out of bed to shut the window and instead of being met with a warm breeze I was chilled to the bone and actually thought about pulling out flannel pajama pants to put over my silk pj set. That was sign number two, but it was the middle of the night and I was half asleep so these signs didn't mean anything to me at the time. This morning when I opened the window to see how hot it was already it all clicked into place. The sky was grey, the wind was blowing, and I was cold. Fall was really here. As much as I've been dreading it, there is one splendid thing about Fall. Boots.
Let me explain. I am not one of those shoe girls. I don't have a lot of shoes and I feel a lot of dread when I know I'm going to have to go shoe shopping. I do have a completely insatiable desire for boots. I love boots! I love how powerful and sexy they make me feel. In high school I lived in big manhater boots. I don't think that's an actual term, but that's what people always used to describe them as when I wore them. I didn't own a pair without a three inch heel. Living in Portland helped me evolve my style and my boot preferences. I lived downtown and I walked everywhere, so three inch heels went out the window. I lived in boots in Portland, it's the perfect flat boot city. Now being back in a town where I drive everywhere, heels are back on the table.Today as I'm wearing my bright purple boots, which my best friend says would pair perfectly with a super hero cape. I am choosing to ignore that comment.
I am going to back up to Portland in just over a week and I may have to splurge on some new boots. I'm thinking something black or grey and maybe even thigh high. We'll just have to wait and see.
