It might be stating the obvious to say this, but each city has its own character, its own essential style, and when in Rome, well, one has to dress the part. Or in Paris, or Los Angeles. It never ceases to amaze me how my aesthetic morphs to match wherever I happen to be in the world. Take these super short shorts. I would never dream of wearing them in Paris. But now that I’m back home in Los Angeles, nothing feels more natural. Plus these are the last days of summer and I’ve got to live every remaining moment to its causal-dress-code fullest. Here I’ve paired my American Eagle shorts with a stolen (from my husband’s drawer) belt, a white shirt from Anne Fontaine, and my new go-to booties from Dolce Vita. It was nearly 100 degrees the day we took these photos, so, sitting anywhere, including on a random piece of pipe, seemed like a really good idea. But I digress. Playing dress up in Paris was heaven, it’s true, but there’s no place like home.