A year ago I sent my first fashion-focused letter. I read it back the other day, having not laid eyes on it in 11 months, and had to laugh. I’m doing exactly the same shit this year, almost down to the minute.
Like last year, I welcomed this September by: lounging on the beach while my partner competed in a bodysurfing competition (it even got rained out like it did last year); writing about the fresh autumnal chill in NYC and the pieces I’m excited to wear; pondering what makes a good U.S. Open look and whether tennis balls are green or yellow; and grabbing a copy of The Cut’s fall print issue while running errands downtown.
I’m wearing my same favorite sweater, reaching for my same favorite bag, and the leaves are beginning to fall once again. How lucky that some things never change.
I thought we could revisit that letter together as a happy one year to my style coverage on Substack. A little celebration that nothing is different and everything is different all the same — the biggest difference being that you are reading it now! (I think that letter went out to around ~75 subs of solely family and friends?) So thank you for being here <3
This letter was originally published September 13, 2024. My style has evolved since, but it’s nice to look back with a little hand heart for one-year-ago Yeehawt.
Taking your dog (summer bag) to McDonald’s (the U.S. Open) before putting it down (storing it away during winter)
September in New York City is part of whichever season you want it to be. A light down puffer would be appropriate for a Saturday morning coffee run, but by lunch time you could be sunbathing in Central Park. The changing of the seasons isn’t a date on the calendar, it’s a feeling in the air.
Each year, for a few special nights in the city, a ceremony takes place that bids farewell to summer and welcomes fall back to town. Hamptons honeys in Queens honor their summer wardrobes one last time while divas in downtown Manhattan strut cobblestone streets in their best autumnal attire. I’m talking about the two biggest fashion events of the fall, of course — New York Fashion Week and the U.S. Open.
As this is my newsletter and I am the authority here, I’ll definitively tell you that this past weekend was the first weekend of fall in New York City. And on Thursday, I attended the official seasonal changing of the guards.
The last day of summer
I am both bummed and delighted to report the Honey Deuce is sincerely delicious and dangerous. It tastes nothing like honeydew, but the melon balls are a genius-level aesthetic touch.
The people watching was as fun as watching the actual game. In a kind, end-of-life gesture, hundreds of women can be spotted taking their Miu Miu mini raffia bags on one last outing before being tucked away in storage until next year. Having just gotten off the plane from the French Riviera for fuck-off-to-Europe August, the bag was just starting to hope that maybe this was the summer that was never going to end, but nothing is more certain than the leaves falling from the trees.
I dressed in reverence to the star of the evening, the tennis ball itself, in a green wool sweater from TOAST. I haven’t been able to peel this vintage denim Marc Jacobs skirt off my body recently — there’s nothing that screams fall transitional outfit more than comfortable cotton hitting right below the knee. The denim has a subtle warm tone that feels very unmistakably autumn to me. This patchwork vintage Lucky Brand bag is a fall staple and one of my most used eBay finds of all time, and I brought it here because, frankly, I had a lot of shit to carry.
TGIF — thank god it’s fall!
With my evening of tennis over, summer has officially ended. (Disregard that the tournament was still going on for several more days, again, this is my newsletter.) I met up with M in the West Village to yap and window shop with an explicit personal mission of picking up a copy of the first print edition of The Cut. Sexy suited Chloe Sevigny… yeah, you’re coming home with me.
I came armed in the same denim skirt from the night before (maybe I slept in it, how would you know) and a Royel Otis t-shirt I bought at their show this past spring. Without the foresight to bring a purse large enough to carry the magazine, I opted for this vintage burgundy suede Coach number and carried the mag between my fingers until they cramped to hell.
I crossed town Friday night for Vietnamese food in the East Village to celebrate my anniversary of moving to New York. It’s the best decision I’ve ever made, I’m thankful to live here every day, and that’s as sappy as I’ll let myself be. I threw on this Nascar jacket that M gifted me from her closet (queen), ate a delicious fish-sauce-forward dinner, and ended the night as all nights should be ended, with an M&M McFlurry.
The first time I’ve been cold in months
You’ve heard of surfing, have you heard of bodysurfing? Like, surfing but with no surfboard? As in your body is the surfboard? Saturday morning I braved the 7:30am C, A, and S trains to join my partner in his chosen pursuit of excellence: the annual Rockaway Beach Bodysurf Contest.
Lucky for us all, it started pouring rain just before his first heat! Never before have I been so wet next to the ocean without having dipped in even a toe. He and I were both drenched through the morning, but wildly different athletic efforts went into getting each of us there (re: no athletic effort for me).
I ate a hot dog in flip-flops and sopping wet Vietnam War era army pants (why did the vintage store specify to me they were Vietnam War era? I don’t know but now I can’t unknow it) and shivered underneath my Arcteryx rain jacket until the sun showed up.
After a painfully hot and delicious shower, a giant bowl of beans for dinner, and a 2-hour sit on the couch, I resurrected to head downtown for a friend’s show. The evening air was chilly and crisp. Sweaters stored under the bed were gnawing at their enclosures to come out. I obliged and pulled on a vintage sweater I snapped up in London earlier this year — her first American fall, they grow up so fast!
Gilmore Girls la la la starts playing in the distance
On Sunday morning I threw on the same sweater with dark wash bootcut jeans, like any good Rory Gilmore cosplayer, to venture across the park to watch my partner run the 5th Avenue Mile race (too much physical activity for one weekend if you ask me).
I was there both to support and also to secure the pastry I was promised after — the pastry case at Librae could get me out of bed any time. We inhaled a Za’atar morning bun, espresso pain au chocolat, and an egg-y zhoug-y focaccia to fuel a morning of walking around.
I stopped by the Damson Madder pop-up in Soho, which ended up being less of a clothing store and more of an abandoned coffee cup graveyard and a lesson in how to replicate Glossier branding.
After a visit to the farmer’s market, I ran home to start a focaccia for dinner. I wore sweats the rest of the night dimpling dough, blending pesto, and chopping cherry tomatoes.
No perfect Sunday night is complete without reruns, currently it’s New Girl in rotation. (Can we have a conversation about what they did to my girl Cece in later seasons forcing her to wear those little heeled ankle boots and boho dresses? Free her from that 2015 H&M you’re holding her hostage in!)
I fell asleep without the fan on for the first time in a long time. I’ve been wearing a sweatshirt in the morning while I brew my tea. Everything feels just a bit cozier.
How have you celebrated the final days before fall? As we collectively say goodbye to cotton and 95 degree subway stations and say hello to hot coffee and cashmere, I’d love to know what you’re wearing, watching, reading, eating, and daydreaming of. Chat soon x
2025 Me again — I even watched an episode of New Girl last night lol. (S2E15, duh.)
Right now I’m deep in the throes of prep for a long upcoming trip (and all the work the needs to get done before I leave…) so more on that is imminent in your inbox. In the meantime I’d love to hear what you’re up to as fall approaches??
Find me on Insta here, send me a note at mackinley@yeehawt.com, or reply to this email to keep the convo going.
Itching for more?
Suede, fringe, chunky plastic bangles, etc.
Why did summer feel so short this year?
Pulling a lot of these pieces out lately.
