Over lunch, I asked my bf a question I’ve been itching to ask — where’s the rain? For this time of the year, the weather’s been strange — cool but sunny, dry and nice, as evident on my photos last week. We’re supposed to be in the middle of autumn as the leaves are starting to fall but where are the cloudy, gray skies?

Sunglasses, gray wool trousers and emerald lurex turtleneck from Prada, coat from Dolce & Gabbana, navy blue cashmere v-neck from Uniqlo, bag from Mark Cross, suede shoes from Church’s, scarf from Herr Judit.

As you know, I can’t stand the rain. I can’t. Rain is my biggest nightmare. It ruins my hair, my clothes, my shoes and my mood. When it’s rainy outside, all I want to do is to curl up on the sofa with my laptop and a warm pot of tea. Why bother going out?

And then it happened. An hour after my boyfriend’s lunch break (when he took these photos), rain started to fall.

There I was, drenched with rain water in the streets of Stockholm running errands with my shopping bags. The umbrella I bought at a corner store gave up on me within an hour because of the wind. My outfit, and my shoes, were downright ruined. I felt a pang of jealousy whenever I saw people who wore their waterproof, hooded jackets. Why oh why don’t I own one of them fugly but practical jackets? Why oh why oh why did I choose to wear Prada and Dolce & Gabbana over North Face?

Call me a fool but I know I’m not, I’m gonna stand out here on the mountain top till I feel your rain… feel it on my finger tips, hear it on my window pane, your love’s coming down like rain… wash away my sorrow, take away my pain. Your love’s coming down like rain.

Click click click!


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