The Art of the In-Between
Not Your General Pinterest Fall Bucket List
Romy Schneider in La Piscine says, while leaning on Alain Delon’s shoulder: “I don’t like the summer, only in-between seasons.”
Contrary to the movie line, I’ve always felt anxious in transitional weeks, as if standing on a widening fault line, the air unsettled around me. Unless the change is gradual and imperceptible, I never knew what to do with myself during those in-between weeks.
Autumn, the real one, with rains, glove-weather mornings, brief bursts of sun, hideaways in bookstores and cafés, and my children throwing leaves, is my absolute favourite season. But the beginning of September, the prelude to that jubilee, always feels confusing. Tell me I’m not the only one. Unlike October, September’s onset of autumn is unstable: often extremely hot, specifically for farmers to enjoy the summer’s last appearance, trees stand indecisive for weeks, only slightly touched with yellow.
However, that was the wrong approach: the neurotic perspective of someone too eager to part with summer and leap straight into autumn. Turned out the differences and hidden beauties of the in-between season were on the surface, simply there as silent witnesses to the gradual changes. So, as someone who finds it undeserved to treat September as either true autumn or just the fourth month of summer, I’ve made a list of transitional things to do.
Summer to-do list evaluation.
Even if you don’t have a list of truly summery things that help you to seize the season, you probably have it in the back of your mind. September is the time to revisit that list and cross off a thing or two.
Something that has been on my list, but I was hesitant to do all summer long because I was too busy (there were things to do and parks/lakes to go to), was people-watching by a fountain in the Legislature Grounds.
I imagined myself grabbing lemon gelato and heading to the fountains. Sitting on the fountain border in a sundress or linen trousers and watching the crowd through the narrow 90s sunglasses. Sounds cinematic? I thought so. Since I barely went downtown all summer, it felt invigorating to join the crowds again last week. Wearing a suede skirt and a wool blazer, I sat by the fountain with a scoop of fig-cheese gelato, watching people go by.
(I don’t believe there is anything else left on my summer list.)
(Another one on my summer list was to try out sailing: I wrote about it HERE.)
Time outside.
I specifically didn’t say outdoors. I don’t mean forests and countryside (there will be amber October and murky November for that). I mean parks and botanical gardens. Trees are still green, and flowers are still blooming, but the light is gentler, and the rush of summer is gone. (For good. Finally.)
A few days ago, my kids and I had a spontaneous picnic at our local park. We bought some pastries, spread a vintage wool throw, and found a secluded spot with mature trees and a lawn. They ran around, and unless I had to intervene in their arguing, I lay on the ground, feeling the soil and the tree roots with my back. I squinted and looked through the branches, still full of leaves, with sunlight pouring through. The. Most. Glorious. Hour.
So, throw on an extra layer and head outside.
Notice the shifting colours, the gentler light, the sound of nature taking a deep breath before winter stagnation. Catch your own breath. Talk to your loved ones about the past summer. (Having kids really helps with this one; they notice and remember things that you would never think to capture.)
Seasonal books and movies.
Not even going to mention classics like Meg Ryan movies and Gilmore Girls. If you already watched and loved those, you are most likely going back to them. I’m talking more about niche names that don’t scream: PINTEREST FALL VIBES! but simply hint at it. Again, I probably will share a longer list heading into the colder season, because more time indoors is inevitable when temperatures drop. However, for easing into the autumnal mood, these are my recommendations:
Conte d'automne / Autumn Tale (1998)
Wardrobe evaluation.
When it comes to my own style, I add two or three pieces a season: another cashmere turtleneck, a new pair of shoes or a bag. Besides, I really look forward to pulling out what I already have. I have been curating my wardrobe since I started working in fashion in 2017, and have not stopped since. That is why my advice to add just a few meticulously selected pieces might not be for everyone. But again, looking for those pieces (often vintage) is a game of its own. (This year I finally added tall black Hunter boots.)
So, the only recommendation I will leave here is buying fewer but better pieces. (I know, it is a tale as old as time, but natural fabrics last longer, keep you warmer, and objectively look more sophisticated than cheaper alternatives.)
Picking apples at a local orchard.
Other seasonal fruits count just as well. (Last year, we went to British Columbia this time of the year, and we brought home boxes of plums, pears, and apples).
This year, I helped my kids put on their rubber boots, and we headed to a nearby farm to pick tart and crunchy green apples.
I suppose the underlying message here is to tune in with the season. Eat seasonally (apple tart from the freshly picked apples), late peaches and plums (from British Columbia and Ontario), zucchini, tomatoes, and carrots from local farmers’ markets for hearty dinners. S-e-a-s-o-n-a-l.
When you approach it with attention to what grows in the region, what your body actually craves this time of the year, cooking with those ingredients becomes almost celebratory.
Field flowers in antique vases.
Doesn’t have to be antique vases, but what I want to inspire you to do is to decorate your home for the season. And no, I’m not into Halloween, pumpkins, all hues of yellow and orange and red in my space. I don’t do ghost pillows, and I don’t even crave pumpkin spice lattes (although pumpkin pie is my absolute favourite during Thanksgiving weekend). I’m talking about the feeling.
And here is what I do to create the feeling of a new season in my space:
Bring in seasonal flowers and branches picked at a local market or a small u-pick farm: sunflowers, dahlias, grasses, hydrangeas, crab apples, etc.
Swap pillowcases from lightweight linen to velvet.
Wool and cashmere throws over armchairs.
Strategically placed light for darker evenings (table lamps and candles).
Hold on to the feeling of bringing the outside in, sharing in nature’s changes.
Is anyone out there as passionate as I am about our lives being perceived from a more cinematic standpoint? From making our routines appealing, exciting, and beautiful? That is why I talk so much about evoking a sense of reverie through those simple, at first glance, activities.
Anyhow, I will be sharing another one in October. A list that will mainly focus on indoor activities (including kid-friendly ones). But for now, let’s punch in a local botanical garden in a navigator and head out there to enjoy the last blooms of the season.
See you in the next one!