This weather is pissing me off. Like, what a really mundane thing to say, right? Duh... I can't imagine ANYONE out there is loving the constant blanket of ominous grey cloud hanging over us, broken only by persistent bouts of boke-worthy torrential rain - the kind that makes you PROPER soaked in seconds. NICE.
There's only been one or two nice days in months and frankly I'm SICK of it, which is KIND OF weird since I've always considered myself much more of a winter person - scarves, coats, gloves, jumpers, roaring fires, frosty windows, porridge, Christmas... YUP - but part of the fun of winter is the contrast between it and other actual seasons. Where's the fun in sliding miserably into a sodden Autumn without the dramatic changing of the seasons that makes my heart so happy? Nowhere, that's where. SOB. Get me out of this climate before I develop that SAD disease for real.
ANYWAY, this gorgeous editorial of Tavi (my ultimate love) for Oyster magazine has helped to relieve some of my weather woes this morning. Don't ask me why, it's not like she's prancing around in a bikini at the beach (as IF) but something about it screams summer at me. But in a kind of subtle way. Yeah, that makes sense...
I love the pastel tones, the leafy suburban setting hinting at something a bit menacing (no?) and the way the light and shadow hit her face. Utter babe.
I also LOVE the way she's looking down in almost every shot. Sometimes, as much as I adore Tavi, she can come across a bit precocious and all-knowing, too old for her years (she's only 16). But in these shots she looks sort of coy and self-conscious. I know at 16 I had some serious eye-contact issues and I feel like I can see that awkward teenage, angsty embarrassment in her here. Which is cool. Also enjoying how she's clearly styled herself and it's GENIUS as ever, and that she's kind of gone a bit heavy on the makeup as most 16-year-olds are liable to do.
But yeah, SUMMER. It reminds me of SUMMER. And believe me, it's nice to be reminded and I bundle myself up in jeans and jumpers and frantically search for my umbrella. IN AUGUST. Boke.