Dear Huntingdale (Dress 149)

Dear Huntingdale,
You are structurally unsound.
There is a tunnel under the tracks to get to the platform. This is not really the problem, but the drains get clogged, and then it floods, and then no matter what you are wearing you are going to have wet socks which is like purgatory, only worse.
You have bathrooms which are always locked, and benches that are always wet with fresh paint.
And no matter where you stand, you are always in the path of freezing winds.
BUT:

if you look out from Platform 1 at dusk, you will see a collection of streetlights, wires and poles washed in intensely beautiful cobalt skies.
and that is why, for all your faults, I really do like you.
All my love,
IP

Dear Winter, (Dress 59)

Dear Winter (well aware that it is still technically Autumn, but the weather says otherwise.)
You're the only reliable season in Melbourne. You're rainy and freezing and drizzly and haily and all sorts of damp and cold but at least I know that when I leave the house wearing a scarf and a wooly jumper I won't have to carry them around all day while passing out from dehydration...
What I'm saying is that consistancy is key. And that when people know that they can shake out the mothballs and go all out with winter clothing they really go for it and the results are lovely.
Today I saw a split-zipped hoody on the bus: if: then: therefore:

(Black wool blend with a rose-tinted cotton lined hood. zip up the back,)

All my love,