July 4 is bittersweet benchmark of summer. It completely creeps up on you, and as soon as you’ve managed to get the red and blue jello shot stains out of your clothes it seems that the rest of July and August have already flown by.
Soon we’ll be bombarded with back to school advertisements, promises of falling leaves and be sartorially forced to switch out our seersucker and madras for suede and tartan. Granted I’m looking forward to not having to battle a humidity induced Jew fro — but I’m also not ready to let go of my tan and rooftop adventures (i.e. daydrinking) just yet.
I intend to hold the remaining months of summer in a death grip by accomplishing the following:
Throw a roof deck party before my sublet is up
Obnoxious instagram of my roof view
So far my plans include cocktail weiners and a gin bucket, the rest is up
to the degenerates that attend and fate.
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Hit on a summer intern
Why yes I "work" at Goldman.
Might have already happened. Why the lies Manhattan, why the lies?
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Pretend to be a summer intern
Nothing has changed in 2 years. Pretty sure I hid my drink under my cardigan so I could take it out of the party.
Done. Like 20 times over.
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Make limoncello
Purchasing everclear for something other than frat basement purposes? Sign me up!
Good recipe available here
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Go sailing
Kal, take me to work with you. (cough cough) (wink wink) (nudge nudge)
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Spend time in New England
Next week for the win. Thrilled to get some time out of the city and go home.
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Blow way too much money on summer clearance sales
Cue fetal position. And much cheaper apartment hunting.
Whatever, it was worth it.
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Wear as much Lilly Pulitzer as humanly possible
Becky photographed for unabashedly prep at the social primer party pre-Dorrian's
Thankfully at Dorrian's we fit in.