The weather here is funny. It’ll be all 90 degrees and clear blue skies in our back yard, and then we get in the car and drive twenty minutes away, and all of a sudden it’s 50 and overcast. Last summer, I remember the first time we drove from the South Bay into San Francisco, our son looked out the window and said, “Mom, look! The clouds are falling down.” Which is an incredibly creepy and Stephen King-story-ish thing to hear a three-year-old say, but it was true: the clouds were literally rolling down the sides of the hills. If you’ve never seen it, you wouldn’t believe how dramatic the climate here is: you can actually see a wall of fog coming at you. Like, an actual wall. That you will hit.
Weird.
Anyway, this is all very atmospheric and what have you, but it also creates a slight clothing conundrum. The first time Kendrick, Indy and I headed to Santa Cruz last summer we left our sunny little apartment in our shorts and tank tops, expecting to find…you know, beach weather. But what we arrived to was a completely different planet than the one we’d been on just 45 minutes earlier, and we wandered around shivering and miserable for awhile before finally biting the bullet and spending forty-five dollars (EACH, arrrrr) on touristy sweatshirts from a boardwalk gift shop.
We have learned our lesson. And now, when we go to the beach, we wear swimsuits under our clothing in anticipation of the noontime warm-up that usually happens, and full-on coats on top (because when you have small children, you arrive everywhere at nine o’clock in the morning, which is basically late afternoon for you. Because you’ve been up since the crack of dawn).
As it turns out, it’s a look I rawther like.
Jacket / Tank / Sunglasses / Hat / ID Necklaces / Bikini / Shorts / Rings (1, 2, 3) / Bag / Birks
