Piercing sun and afternoon rain showers, but there is always an electricity of excitement in the air.
When we were younger, we would pile into the car and head to Kingscliff. I miss the smell of dry pine trees and all us kids running wild through the park, playing with our new loot, than cooling off in the crashing Pacific waves.
The year before last, we found ourselves alone on Christmas day, me and my twin, in our St Kilda apartment. After opening our single present to each other, we spent the majority of the day cooking up a storm, with no hungry mouths to feed. Instead of letting the food spoil in the 40 degree heat, we had the ingenious idea to roll ourselves a little green happiness, eat and reminisce about previous Christmas's.
This year, a distant memory away, I watched the first snow flakes float down and settle on my sleeve. I didn't believe my eyes at first, but the feeling that started to flow through me was undeniable.
Not nearly the first snow I have experienced, but the effect began to restore a figment of Christmas spirit that had dissolved in my late teens and completely stamped out during my disappointingly dull visit to Hollywood last year.
I may as well have been in a movie set, sitting by a warm fire with hot cocoa, carols playing softly, Christmas tree twinkling in the background - In reality I was on a crammed bus with a smile from ear to ear.
Another December rolls around, bringing with it all the triumphs and tragedies of the year past. All the stitches, and quick-un-picks, the sketches, the silks, the crooked hems, and perfect silhouettes ...
and all those gorgeous dresses I didn't make!
Each December I make myself a promise for the new year. That I will make that dress. The one I have dreamed up over all my years. Im not exactly sure what it looks like - I havent been able to quite get it down on my page. But its perfect. Its everything that is me...
Maybe my 25th year will bring it to me