Just before I left the house, I decided to throw on a pair of black tights with this outfit, since the day before I'd been fooled by the weatherman again and went bare-legged only to freeze half to death. Truly warm days in San Francisco are sort of like giant squid: we know they exist, but few people have actually seen one in its entirety. What usually happens to me is that the morning starts out full of sunshine and hope and promise, which is promptly dashed to pieces by the time I make the scant 11-mile journey from my home to the office. In San Francisco we tend to get our warm weather only in small bits and pieces, so generally by the time you've started to believe in it enough to actually start dressing for it, you're too late; the fog has rolled in and it's time to get out the tights and scarves.
Dress: an old one from the 90's
Skirt: a hand-me-up from my sister
Shoes: Saks Fifth Avenue
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