Every morning for the past couple of weeks, a sliver of crisp air has been seeping into the bedroom through the slits of our single-glazed windows and chilling the room down to a temperature in which a leftover casserole dish could safely sit in for about a week or so before being deemed inedible. Inside the duvet and out is the difference of Northern/Southern Hemispheres. This can only mean one thing: Autumn is here. And that we should probably replace the draught-prevention stickers for the windows… and we also e-mail the landlady to complain why the house is still balls-cold with the heating on. So this means three things, really.
The streets are laden with men and women of varying stages of confusion: those shuffling by in full Day After Tomorrow get-up in duffle coats and pickaxes, and then there’s the skeptical few with a very cold-looking set of toes peeking out of yesterday’s ‘heatwave’ sandals. Alas, we are Londoners, it’s simply too impolite to go back and change. So we charge on, trench foot galore. A general aroma (or shall I say ‘fume’) of Pumpkin Spice Latte (PSL) wafts through the tube system, reminding us of the impending holiday that is distinctly not-of-British-tradition (i.e American), and the one vegetable we do not bother eating any other time of the year. A bit like how we consider turkey a dry, inferior chicken, every other time than Christmas.
Coat, Sweater, Bag, silver brogues – Coach AW15. Brogues - Hudson Shoes
Our garden has mysteriously given birth to a wagon-load of fat apples, most of which have been gnawed on by foxes or pecked out by magpies, but one day I looked out our bedroom window and thought it was a rather beautiful scene lying so closely to my highly sarcastic lifestyle, so we decided to shoot some of my favourite bits from the Coach AW15 out there.