One of the things I love about being a Lady and that I love, in general, about other Ladies is that you can totally tell at a a glance how pretty we feel to be wearing fall clothes. Gentleman, note our strut. We have boots and we are happy about them. There is a good chance there is a Story behind our outfit in the fall. Whether that story is I-think-I look-charmingly-jejune-and-Parisian-in-this-striped-boatneck-shirt or simply 'I am happy to wear things that cover my arms' this narrative is fucking palpable.
So rich in narrative and fecund in potential is the fall season, often the fervor will spill over into a hoarding of new office supplies, about which don't get me started. Don't even get me started.