Maybe it’s because my mom’s British, but I love the rain. Everything about it, from the smell of the first drops on cement to the beautiful post-shower skies, makes me feel so happy. Why I live in one of the driest cities in the United States is, honestly, beyond me. Once fall hits, I spend more time than I care to admit fawning over all the full-on fall looks I see in places with frequent rainfall. Wellies with oversize jackets; Chelsea boots with knit dresses; knee-highs with big sweaters; even lug-sole boots with a simple denim outfit get me feeling envious. Sure, nothing is really stopping me from wearing these outfits whenever I want, but you can’t tell me strutting outside in sunny 80-degree weather is the same as splashing through puddles in your rain boots. Oh, and you don’t consider mock-croc heeled knee-highs to be rain boots? What do you expect me to actually know about the rain? I’m from California, after all.