After over a year, I’m still figuring out how to best navigate life as a Soft Autumn.
Muted earth tones are very hard to find outside of a sandy beach. Like, when picturing a brown shirt, you may think of a deep, rich chocolate or a warm, sophisticated cinnamon. Now take that clean top off the hanger and throw it directly in the middle of any beach. Let the elements and wildlife take hold: sun bleaching, sand muck, various species of urine, “accidents.” After a year, this once brown garment will arrive at a shade of dusky filth that’ll make my olive skin glow. Soft Autumn is the post-apocalyptic glamour.
Thankfully, the lovely folks at Pantone have removed these extra, unsanitary steps by releasing their 2025 Color of the Year: Mocha Mousse 17-1230. I feel seen.
The first time I dyed the sweatshirt, I didn’t know what I was doing. I reused a dye mix from a batch earlier that day, just let it soak for half the time, only added half the bottle, and didn’t use a dye fixative. You must use a dye fixative unless you want the color (and your hard work) to ooze out. For a short while, I tried to convince myself that the dyed sweatshirt looked like an artisanal tea neutral, but soon realized that it too closely resembled my pale skin tone; I felt like I was in a Cronenberg body horror where I finally became one with Fila. It’ll happen someday. After the second, more deliberate, attempt, the sweatshirt is now a true dark brown.
Using dark brown again, I changed this beloved THE KIT top from “smokey lilac” to a brownish, smokier lilac. The Potato Professor background is also still beloved and continues to make an appearance.
As another win (and maybe the favorite), I dyed my Thakoon for Target dress a Sage green. The original print thankfully still comes through.
My foray into non-brown or green colors has proven less successful in my attempts to autumn-up my wardrobe. The swatches below show a dress’s fabric turned from a black/white/brown print to an intended deep eggplant (but now fuchsia).
Do you know any Clear Winters who need a flowy summer dress? Fuchsia / haute pink is all the rage.
Love,
Em
P.S. A lot of my Fila love comes from my switch to ostentatious flats after my first MS attack and the need for the comfiest fashion shoes ever. Disease Is a Mirror, my lyric memoir about diagnosis, publishes as an eBook on October 3, 2023 and includes excerpts from our DorEm Answers shenanigans. Save the date.
Whelp, that 10% of my intuition was right, I am an Autumn. The other 90% doesn’t know what’s real anymore because for 40+ years I have dedicated my entire wardrobe around the delusion that I was a Summer.
To the untrained eye, I have all the Summer markings: I’m pale, I have light eyes, and my hair is ashy. But don’t believe online seasonal quizzes (or your own mother) because you may also be lied to (either by their faulty system or by your faulty view of yourself).
I now KNOW my seasonal color palette is Autumn because I hired a professional and I saw the differences with my own eyes.
As instructed for the appointment, I wore no makeup and arrived at a time scheduled to ensure the sun was out. The sun reveals the truth. Also, because the analysis looks for colors that harmonize with your skin tone, eyes, and hair, my dyed hair had to be hidden. We used a hairnet.
The stylist first draped fabrics across my front to determine if I was cool or warmed toned. The cool colors made me look sickly, so Summer (a cool season) was immediately out and I started chewing my lower lip.
Next, we compared Spring colors (bright) and Autumn colors (rich). Some Spring colors really popped on me, but in a way that the color was wearing me and I barely existed. The Autumn colors harmonized.
This is a pic of me draped in my best colors, trying to make the scar in my eyebrow work while wearing not nearly enough makeup to cover my look of dismay.
I was given a fan of colors in my season to help with updating my wardrobe, which currently consists of shades that don’t belong anywhere near me. I own a lot of greys, blues, pinks, and other cool tones (Summer) and I should own browns, greens, teals, corals, and other warm tones (Autumn).
Let’s see if you agree with this Autumn designation with a couple comparisons to Summer.
Exhibit A: As extreme examples, the one on the left shows me in full Summer clothing and makeup, complete with platinum dyed hair, while sitting in an office best used for potato professors. The one on the right shows me in full Autumn clothing and makeup (trust and believe that shirt is teal, not blue) with hair dyed back to my natural brown.
Exhibit B: For a subtle comparison, I have the same medium blonde hair in both pictures, but with Summer makeup and clothing on the left and Autumn makeup and clothing on the right.
In the extreme example, I think the Summer colors make me look like I’ve been locked in an attic my entire life, and someone needs to come get me; while, the Autumn colors make me look like I got the help I needed.
In the subtle comparison, I think I still look slightly sickly in the Summer colors and healthy in the Autumn colors.
Do you agree?
I’m so curious to know your color palette. How convinced are you that you’re a Winter? If you’re down, I recommend House of Color; next you’re in town, we can schedule an appointment with Laura, just sayin.
Love,
Em
P.S. Because I own almost no Autumn colors (I could open a shop called Soft Summer) and because I recently did a haul of misguided spending, I’ve decided to not open the floodgates to buying all new clothes. Instead, I’ve taken to dying some things (including that now teal button down). Nothing is safe. Stay tuned.
DorEm Answers 