He's from New England, and was mocking me for shivering in 58-degree weather. Had this been one year ago, I would have already been outside on a run. Not anymore. These days, 58 means rub your legs together until the spikes of your goose bumps soften over, and hold your pee because there is no way you're going to leave the warmth of this bed.
I brought two sweaters and a coat with me when I moved to L.A., and my coat is actually really nice. It's casual enough to be worn to the movies, yet cute enough for dinner. I don't need a new coat, per say, but when did not needing something stop a girl from looking? Probably in the history of never.
I recently stumbled across this coat, which I quite like for two reasons. First, black and white will never go out of style, ever, and second, because it's wool, which means it's durable and warm. But there is one major obstruction of functionality logic happening here. Why are the sleeves on this thing not completely full? This is something that I have yet to comprehend on warm-weather clothes. This of course does not include ponchos, kimono-style sweaters, and the such, but this is a coat. I'm a little uncomfortable with the set up here.
For the sake of imagining myself in this coat, I thought I'd overlook the sleeves for now because I am quite smitten with the fall of this piece. It's not of the typical close-body style that is most women's coats. It does have a pleat at the bottom to give it a little more shape, but the drop of the coat is unhindered and simple, and I like that. Its design gives the wearer multiple under-coat options. You see, there are coats that are your outfit, and coats that cover your outfit. This appears to be a little of both, and with the extra give around the waist and through the hips, you could easily slip into a slightly bulkier sweater underneath without getting caught in mangled fabric at the shoulders. There's no