Pappa November has gone crazy the past few days, pouring its painting pots all over the city.

Trees and bushes are tumbling into a punch drunk color frenzy, and so do I.

Well, at least the bottom of my closet was looking exactly like Amsterdam streets, all covered in a mess of luminous yellows and all the shades of red, pinks and browns you can think of. Yes, was adapting my closet for the lower temperatures, felt a little tipsy on texture, over dozed on bold tones and fell in a color coma.

When I woke up I had forced my BF to document me running in the wild with a bunch of flowers, kind of like an Olympic torch going in bat for my favorite season.

Good thing: I found many many gorgeous shoes which I abandoned in boxes over the summer.

Bad thing: I might still sit in a pile of bold tones arranging wild combinations oddly instinctive by spring.

If you are a prince, come along and kiss me out of my delicious delirium. Or forget about the kiss and bring a pair of heels instead. Bright colors and prints welcome.