Literally planted myself on the highest possible local peak, 425 feet upwards to be exact. A real-life oasis within an 'Oasis' that nourishes the eyes as well as the stomach in ways I never thought possible. Two birds with one stone on that one. As it turns out, my theory on early-on fall transition is also working quite well because gray wool isn't as much of a pest as I thought it would be given the times. In fact, when wool manifests itself in jacket form, everything turns upward in some way. Think inverse Murphy's Law but in sartorial terms.
Oh, I eventually descended back down from nirvana. The things we regret to mention.
(h&m jacket, asos wingtips)
See? Everything that can go right will go right. Or at least hopefully. In this case, sweaters that sit cozily mid-way past the hand are my ticket to achieving that sort of optimism.