A friend of ours wore her brand-new lace abaya to a Friday lunch on one of the first cooler weekends in October. Car to restaurant, restaurant back to car, that was all. She came home with a faint yellow mark on one sleeve. Perfume. She had sprayed it right before walking out the door, and the afternoon warmth did the rest. Nothing tragic, but she learned quickly.
A woman we know walked into her wardrobe in early November, looked at a row of lightweight summer abayas, and closed the door again. It was still warm outside. But the mornings had turned cooler, a few evenings had surprised her, and nothing she owned felt right for what was coming.