Fall is here! Why am I so sweaty?

Ah, autumn. The time of year when we venture out in our jackets and sweaters to take in the cool, crisp air as the leaves in colors as bright as the sun crunch under our every step.

Ah, autumn in North Carolina, where we venture out in polo shirts and still break a sweat in the middle of the afternoon in late September.

Remember my wistful, rose-colored post about transitioning to the fall wardrobe? The official start of autumn came to pass this past Saturday, and yet I'm sitting here wearing a polo shirt with slightly damp armpits. Autumn weather in the Piedmont is as unpredictable as Blair Warner's waistline. On Monday morning I came to work wearing a polar fleece jacket, and today I'm sweating in a polo shirt. I had to make some adjustments to the strict wardrobe transition strategy I mapped out in my last post to accommodate my native state's relatively warm, sticky Septembers. The seersucker shirts are off-limits, but the polo shirts turned out to be necessary; I compromised by putting away the lighter, brighter shirts and kept the warmer-toned shirts out for autumn. While the nautical motif belts went away for the season, I decided that the striped web belts are acceptable for year-round use, particularly if one is spending time at the beach in the off-season. My leather flip-flops will remain in storage until the next time I stay in a hotel with a pool, but I'm wearing my canvas boat shoes as I type; I determined these to be a year-round item, as well, as long as they're not summer white. I can imagine myself looking quite handsome this winter wearing wool socks with the blue canvas shoes and my navy wool duffel coat; should I spend some time at my beloved Wrightsville in the winter months, I shall wear just that, along with a heavy cotton or ragg wool sweater.

I've at least had a tantalizing taste of autumn weather here and there. As I said, we've had a few chilly mornings here, calling for the Barbour jacket to come back into service after languishing for 4 or 5 months on a hanger. My wool fedoras have seen daylight again, as well. This past weekend I visited family and in-laws, resplendent in one of my new checked shirts from my preferred clothier and outfitter, L.L. Bean. Made of soft twill, it looks relaxed but still polished, perfect for weekends in the city as well as visits to country houses, pairing just as smartly with a tweed sportcoat as with a navy blazer. Upon my return home that evening, it was cool enough that I could layer my soft flannel tartan shirt over a waffle knit shirt before settling in to catch up with the DVR. I am excited to try out my newly-acquired pair of 16" Maine Hunting Shoes from L.L. Bean next time I take the dog for a stroll in my town's big wooded park, but first I really should procure some sort of canvas or twill trousers suitable for knocking around outdoors. Cotton chinos won't do, and denim dungarees are reserved for wear around the house (when not entertaining guests) and potentially dirty or dusty manual labor. I have had a few opportunities to show off my rugby shirts on informal occasions such as afternoons at the cinema or grocery runs, as well as around the office as a more relaxed alternative to my oxford cloth shirts. I'm anxious for it to get chilly enough to use my chunky cotton sweaters and even my wool duffel coat. As soon as I get paid this week, I'm going on yet another little L.L. Bean shopping spree, this time for more shoes and some proper pants for those walks at the country park.

I am, for the first time in years, looking forward to fall. In years past I would dread the waning daylight and the cold mornings, but this year my overall attitude is much more positive. I'm sure it has a great deal to do with the fact that I'll be driving home every day at dusk in my dear old 4runner instead of that damned sedan I had for 3 years, plus I'm sticking with my daily fish oil supplement, which has done wonders for my mood and outlook. I also take a slower route home through a charming neighborhood similar to the one where I spent my childhood, instead of zipping through the hurly-burly of the main drag. Upon my arrival at home after work, unless I plan on lifting weights, I prepare a cocktail at the bookcase bar and change into a pair of comfy jeans and a soft waffle-knit shirt to keep out the evening chill. I'm so ready for those long evenings nestled in my cozy living room, from which I'll briefly emerge now and then just to fill my lungs with cool air and take in the aroma of dry leaves and wood smoke wafting on the night breeze.