The darkest evening of the year . . .
But inside we were making light happen a little more.
Here you see our trés random stocking collection. When our oldest daughter was born (on Epiphany of that year, as it happened, not Christmas, though Christmas was when she was due), my mother gave us a set of three stockings, not quite envisioning . . . Anyway, we've had to add stockings over the years, and the really lame felt snowman one in the middle is a stand-in for our son-in-law's stocking, which my daughter likes to keep at home and bring with her, though I wonder if she remembered to pack it to take to Switzerland. One way or another, he does have a stocking to fill here.
The tree is up, thanks to the efforts of the younger daughter, though I forgot to take a picture of it last night. It is lovely and smells divine.
Wearing today: I thought I wanted a change from dresses, although I might not commit myself to this ensemble.
Repeating the Poshmarked Patagonia navy merino long-sleeved tee for a third day in a row, this time by itself. Though it's thin and fine and meant to be a base layer, it's pretty non-see-through. Wearing with these thrifted high-waisted purple joggers, which are comfortable, and I want to love them, but . . .
I tucked in the tee, which is a men's medium, because if I let it hang loose, it's a horizontal line right across the top of my thighs, which isn't great. And I do like the joggers' paper-bag waist. Theoretically this should work, in a kind of midcentury way, but I dunno. I'm glad I have a huge cardigan to swirl around in, but I'm resisting the temptation to swamp myself in untucked fabric, because although it makes me feel hidden, it's never really an improvement. Also wearing my Vasque hikers, because I have to do a major round of shopping today, and I feel the need to be
geared up, as for an expedition. Hair in a ponytail with a silver satin scrunchy. Maybe I should add a scarf, although things around my neck start to drive me crazy pretty fast . . .
The elder son rolled in around 1 a.m., after a nine-hour layover in Dallas, so it was a late night for everybody. My younger son, stalking into the kitchen in his Viking cloak around midnight, demanded to know what on earth I was doing up, which is a question I've given up asking him. Anyway, we're all a little tired today, those of us who are awake and going already. The gentlemen who were still laughing in the kitchen in the weeest of the wee hours: them we have not seen.
SOME TIME LATER:
Have eaten eggs and had a good talk with the elder son in the kitchen. Younger daughter is off in my car with my debit card, doing some of my grocery shopping for me. I really was not feeling the joggers: definitely feeling Camellia with the merino tee, plus charcoal leggings, marled cotton socks, and Birks.
I think I'm going to give up wearing pants, period. MAYBE my charcoal ponte-knit skinny jeans,
which I last wore on a date night several weeks back. I like feeling menswearish sometimes, and those skinnies generally feel like a flattering choice, with the right top layers. But note to self: as a rule,
you just don't like pants anymore. With that one exception, they just do not feel flattering and comfortable. Again, pondering the difficulties of "top-and-bottom" outfits –– a dress is so much simpler on so many levels. My body feels happier. I feel more free and more graceful. This was the right move.
NB: Haven't decided yet whether to outbox any, or all, of my joggers. They can be decent to sleep in.
As I approach my coming no-buy year, I'm paying extra attention to these signals my clothes and body are sending me –– partly because I only have a few days left in which to acquire anything I might want to acquire, but largely because I'll actually get more wear out of a wardrobe that doesn't present me with choices I don't feel good in. I hate days when I get dressed, then change clothes –– I don't have nearly so many days like that as I used to, which is progress. But I'd like to have zero days like that. A girl can dream.
