Me trying to look cheerful on a Monday morning:
I have a lot to do. The laundry hamper is full, for one thing. And I told myself I'd tackle one of the vacated upstairs rooms at least a little. I want to try to get some poems submitted somewhere, because so far in 2022 I've done none of that. I didn't submit a lot of poetry in 2021, and I'd like to work a little harder at that end of things this year. And I'm gradually pegging away at a short story that's part of what I'm thinking of as a novel in stories.
I spent a good portion of the weekend writing a rambling, sprawling blog essay about dog training and Charlotte Mason education, or vice versa. I update that blog only rarely, but it's nice that it's there when I do have a bunch of thoughts like that, which I hope will be helpful to somebody.
Also still trying to track my clothes-wearing habits daily. Among other things, this spreadsheet helps remind me of what I haven't been wearing –– hard to believe, for example, that until today I hadn't worn my burgundy bamboo swing dress in 2022.
I'm wearing it over my bamboo full slip for an extra thermal layer, and with my thrifted cotton Loft cardigan, old gray cotton leggings and –– my most-worn shoe in January 2022 –– Doc Martens. I'm comfortable and warm, and I like these colors together. The deep burgundy shows up brightly against all the more grayed shades.
From my No-Buy 2022 I've purposely excluded things like underwear, socks, and tights –– the kinds of things I tend not to pay attention to or get around to buying when all my focus is on clothes, per se. Now, I don't need tights. I bought a lot of tights last fall, and what I find is that out of I forget how many pairs, I wear one pair really consistently: the merino pair. I will probably give myself permission to buy at least one more pair of merino tights for the fall –– but that's a long way away. I hope I'll start wearing the microfiber pairs more as the weather warms up a little bit. I adore the colors, and they are soft and comfortable, but to my dismay, they're generally either too hot for the weather or not warm enough. It's hard to find just the right window for them, though I love the way they look.
Meanwhile, I just bought two pairs of Boody bamboo-fiber socks, because they were on sale and because some of my very old wool socks are starting to wear out. I will mend them, but the colder weather we're having right now is highlighting the inadequacy of my current sock situation. I'm also contemplating buying one of their ribbed seamless bras, though I haven't pulled the trigger yet. I wear bralettes like this exclusively at this point –- I like the coverage of a half-camisole, and I can't see going back to straps and hooks –– and would really like to have at least one natural-fiber one. The microfiber models I have are okay, and are certainly comfortable as compared to things with underwires, but for hiking and outdoor activities, especially, I want something more breathable next to my skin. Ultimately I'd want to phase out everything that's not a natural fiber. I could do with two bralettes, probably, just alternating and handwashing each one as I take it off, which is what I do with four pairs of bamboo underwear. And I'd really like a second bamboo slip, though in warmer weather, especially, the white cotton full slip I bought last year to wear under a sheer linen dress will function pretty well.
Anyway, these are the kinds of items I've always neglected to buy because I was worried about what was on the outside. One advantage of deliberately not buying anything for the outside is that I can judiciously focus on some of those neglected areas. I'm not going to buy a lot, because I don't need a lot. Underwear and socks are not quite the same level of dopamine hit, either, though I could probably learn to get really excited about things like that. But buying items in those categories is something I've given myself some leeway to do.
As for the clothes I wear that people actually see, I continue to feel contented with what I have. Granted, it's only been three weeks and change, but I've just barely begun to scratch the surface of my wardrobe's possibilities, and that's fun.
Off to put in a laundry load, then go with my husband to take one of the cars to the mechanic. It's his late night at school, and I'm sort of looking forward to some solitary hours in the house. After being away, it's hard to get back into my old rhythms –- write a little, go out with Dora, do some other task, go out with Dora, write a little more, go out with Dora, read . . . But the new week presents itself as an opportunity to renew those rhythms.