Fall Promises We Make (and Break)

Ah, Autumn. I can almost smell it — the only season wherein Manhattan’s oxygen supply seems suitable for breathing. The seasons will officially change next week as the equinox breezes in to wash off the sticky grime of summer, and possibilities for newness will linger on the crisp air and changing leaves that ultimately fall from their branches to be trampled by — er — winter.

I’m talking about your Fall Promises, people. Similar to the New Year’s Resolution, Fall Promises are the oaths we make with ourselves under the intoxicating pretense of new beginnings. Common examples include but are not limited to:

1. I will not eat peanut butter out of the jar past 5 PM.

2. I will stop pretending that my decision to go commando is intentional, and start doing laundry more often. 

3.  I will lift “War and Peace” and possibly even read it.

Like New Years Resolutions, Fall Promises are meant to be broken – unless, of course, you vow to spend 50% of your paycheck on extra toppings at 16 Handles in which case, fill me up. I speak for myself and every woman I know on a phone-call-from-the-toilet-seat-basis when I say that despite our inability to uphold our annual promises, we continue to make them. Because, the air.

So this year, as the temperature begins to cool and the Zara on Prince street stocks its shelves with white trainers and cable knit turtlenecks, I’m once again inspired to craft said resolutions. Here’s the thing though, they’re always the same. Unlike those surrounding December 31st, Fall Promises almost always revolve around my wardrobe.

Here are the ten pre-Official-Fall promises I promise to break come Fall:

1. I promise to invest in ONE good, warm jacket, rather then layering H&M sweater upon H&M sweater once February comes whooshing in.

2. Quality over Quantity! This refers to: leather pants, white/heather grey T-shirts, and black booties.

3. I WILL NOT get those rain boots “next year.” This WILL NOT be “the last day it snows.” My mother WILL always be right. My promise: buy rain boots now.

4. I vow to incorporate at least one mini and one maxi length skirt into my winter wardrobe.

5. I promise to restock my 3-year old stash of black opaque tights with gaping holes in the crotch.

6. Come October, I will finally get an expensive haircut. The shaggy shoulder length one with side-swept bangs.

7. I will not buy penny loafers. This is not a good look for me.

8. I will not be duped into spending my savings on tempting post-Labor Day sales: white linen is not a transitional fabric and I will not wear that dress come winter.

9. I will shave my legs once a month regardless of their hibernating under countless layers, if only for the sake of the man who shares my bed.

10. I will keep all aforementioned Fall Promises via a pact with someone close to me; a person who, should I break one, will execute the punishment of a shaggy shoulder length haircut with the side-swept bangs, for free.

Am I alone in my inability to keep said promises or furthermore, in my making of them? Tell me. Tell yourself.

I’ll help you out with your first one: don’t let friends cut your hair.

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Image on the left shot by Silja Magg, image on the right shot by Sofia Sanchez for Lula Magazine