By Lynsey Eaton | Photography by Stephen Albanese
Winter in Los Angeles is not unlike Fall in the Southern California metropolis. Every morning the air has a slight chill that lingers like a fog at risk of being blown away at any moment. The sun is out (always), the air is crisp and it feels like Fall would were you to live anywhere else.
It’s as if you always almost need a coat but never reach the point of risking hauling it around all day on the near guaranteed chance it becomes unnecessary. So you grab your leather jacket (the Los Angeles equivalent of a Canada Goose parka), and carry on, ready to remove layers should the winter wind blow the morning chill out to the sea and leave you alone with the sun.
Some might say it’s a little like Groundhog Day, year in and year out. The seasons are so similar, the wardrobe more of the same. But I would argue those people are missing the beauty in what it is by focusing on what it’s not.
The sun is out (always), the air is crisp and it feels like Fall would were you to live anywhere else.