Muddy The Water

My trunk is becoming a treasure chest of muddy shoes, extra scarves, tripods, and crumpled autumn leaves. It just seems I can't go on any brief excursion without bringing a few things back with me that are not-quite-fit-for-the-home. I don't really worry about covering my shoes in mud or staining my clothes though--if I was too afraid to wear them out then what would be the point of owning them? Besides can't we allow our clothes to scar like our bodies? One of my favorite pairs of jeans boasts a patched rip on the back of the pants leg, the legacy of climbing a fence I probably shouldn't have crossed. Those stains and clumps of dirt are the remnants of the adventures we should be having; they beg those who observe them to ask "where have you been wandering today to get so dirty?" and remind you to get back outside and fill your pockets with leaves and weather-smoothed stones.

Outfit details:
thrifted hat
Shop Ruche coat (2 years old, similar)
vintage Coach purse


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