WORKS OF MICRO-FICTION INSPIRED BY OUR FALL ’19 LOOKBOOK

What helps ease end-of-summer sadness? All the fun clothes you get to wear in fall, of course. We’re getting excited for sweater weather thanks to our latest lookbook—and writer Dayna Evans, who graced us with hilarious bits of fiction inspired by the outfits. If you’re a fan of her past lookbook interpretations (we are, big time) you know she always brings the LOLs. Enjoy (!).

“You might not know this about me,” Talullah began, “but when I was six years old, my grandmother took me to El Paso, Texas, for a county fair, where she bought me a funnel cake and a pop, and we went on the whirly ride, the one where you spin around in huge circles, and it was the first time I’d ever screamed until my voice was hoarse and then I ate cotton candy and almost threw it up but that was maybe from heat exhaustion, we weren’t really sure, but it was one of those things where—” The librarian behind the desk interrupted her and asked if she could please, for crying out loud, lower her voice.

“This is my tap-dancing costume,” Polly said, gesturing to her improbably bulky outfit. But with a shuffle-ball-change out the door, she more than proved to her detractors that it was.

When Marguerite walked into the lecture hall on the campus of Vermont-at-the-Crossroads-of-Connecticut College, she announced to the students gathered in their seats that her several degrees from Oxford had prepared her to teach this doctoral class on astrophysics at Harvard and if anyone dared doubt those credentials, they could please leave. A young woman seated in the third row raised her hand to break the news that this wasn’t Harvard and that the class was actually an after-school driving course for teens, but when she saw Marguerite setting up a projector, she thought better of it. “Here is the universe,” Marguerite began. By the end of the semester, the group of wily 15-year-olds were fully educated in astrophysics but couldn’t even dream of making a three-point turn.

There was nothing funnier to Cassandra than listing all the things she couldn’t fit in her new bag if she tried: a whole pineapple, a Super Soaker, her beloved Goldendoodle-Corgi hybrid whom she affectionately referred to as Tortoise but whose birth name was Malcolm Linus McCurdy, a pair of nunchucks or a competition-grade heavy-blade chainsaw. However, she could fit as many tube-shaped items as she desired and—as she would tell anyone within earshot—that was all that really mattered.

See? Every outfit tells a (delightfully bizarre) story. Head over to the lookbook and shop your favorites.