It’s official: I’ve lived in Seattle for a year. I arrived just in time for the bleakest winter on record—that’s over 44 inches of rain and only nine sunny days from October to March—and spent the first few months hunkering down, decorating my new apartment and DIYing well into the long night.
It’s that time of year: time to pack away the breezy silk tank tops and unfold the cozy wool sweaters in an effort to stave off the nascent chill in the air. And the first sweater I aired out was this one. I snapped it up last year because of its similarity to a certain Gucci style, and its colorful stripes still make me smile. Last weekend, my striped sweater and I took a trip to an apple orchard to pick some Jonagolds that will soon find themselves baked into a pie.
This is the face of a woman who has purchased nary a shirt, dress, shoe or earring for nine and a half months. For those of you just tuning in: one of my resolutions for 2017 was to abstain from shopping for one whole year, and two-thirds of the way in I’m still going strong. Well…strong-ish.
After taking a few weeks off from posting as part of a self-granted summer vacation, I figured that the best way to get back into it was with a post recounting one of my very favorite seasonal traditions: a trip to the farmers market. But not just any farmers market. The Davis Farmers Market.
Meet Francesca and Amanda, two of my talented and beautiful coworkers who quickly became my friends when I moved to Seattle last fall. After a long few weeks of writing and emailing and meetings and more writing, we decided that a girls’ night out was in order. Thanks to another lovely coworker who is a longtime patron of the Pacific Northwest Ballet, we decided to spend our Friday night sipping Champagne and taking in a triple bill by Seattle’s resident ballet company.