Daffodils still blooming at the feet of a dormant Rose of Sharon.
It's a gloomy-ish chilly morning. Thirty-five years ago today, the weather in Memphis was gloomy but warm. After sleeping not a wink the night before --- my college-student brother came in at four in the morning from his spring break in Mexico and took the alarm clock off my bedside table, grumbling that I had picked a stupid time to get married --- I went to a bridal brunch at the house of my friend's parents, then back to my own parents' house to fiddle around until it was time to go to the church. We got married at four in the afternoon and didn't eat until after our reception was over --- neither of us ever saw the food at all, but I understand that it was lavish. We left the reception and went to a nearby restaurant where people who had been at our wedding were also having dinner and sent a bottle of champagne to our table.
So, every year we go out to dinner in commemoration of that first late, exhausted dinner of our married life. And generally, now that we live an hour down the road, we go to back to Blowing Rock, North Carolina, where we spent a good bit of our make-it-up-as-you-go honeymoon.
That's the plan this evening. We have the dog sitter lined up for tonight and tomorrow morning, and we're decamping to the mountains. We don't always go overnight, but since it's a large-ish anniversary, ending in a -5, we figured we'd live it up.
The appropriate gift for a 35th wedding, in case you were wondering, is coral or jade. I await my Chinese figurines with a great deal of pleasant anticipation.
For my husband, I have foregone either coral or jade in favor of a new merino t-shirt, because you can't have too many, plus a set of Humby shampoo and conditioner bars with special tin containers. I need to run some errands today, and I might pick up a new tube of Dr. Teal's sleep lotion while I'm out, because I love that stuff, and he might like it, too. And maybe some beard balm. He likes beard balm.
Otherwise . . . I've done all my essays for this week, and while I might continue some research for next week's work, I think I'm going to take the extra day off.
Today is also the first official day of my 9x9 capsule-wardrobe challenge. It's been a while since I did any kind of challenge, and this one seems not too onerous or repetitive. I've chosen my capsule of nine pieces ---
--- from an array of clothes I was wearing anyway, which makes things a little easier. It's also a good thing that the capsule doesn't restrict shoes. I've looked at the weather report and think I know which pairs of shoes I'll mostly be wearing, but I'm glad I don't have to make a hard-and-fast decision there. Outerwear for cold weather is also excluded, so I can throw on a coat if I'm cold without breaking the rules. I opted for more dresses --- 4 dresses for 9 days --- with fewer accessories, because that's easier to me than fewer dresses and more accessories, especially as the weather is warming up. This is really just another iteration of the kind of travel capsule I generally make, where I can rotate through a number of easy dresses, with layers to put on or take off depending on the weather.
It also gives me a chance to try out my new pink silk-blend cardigan, my last clothing purchases before Lent. Like all my secondhand finds, this was reasonably priced --- not as cheap as Goodwill, but still a price that will let me work the cost-per-wear pretty quickly down to $1 --- and I think this softer, blushier, less candy-pastel pink will serve me really well. I like my other pink cardigan a lot, mind you. I especially enjoy it with my brown linen dress (which has gotten almost no wear this year so far, so once this challenge is over, I plan to make a point of reaching for it). But I like this slightly peachier pink, which harmonizes better with Cinnamon Rose, for example. And I think it will look nice with the rosy plum of my silk dress, which I plan to wear out to dinner tonight.
Except for my Wool& Sierra and Snag cashmere footless tights, everything in this capsule is secondhand. Both of the NPL dresses pictured here were particularly good buys, practically new for well under $100. Secondhand NPL dresses are often listed at prices very close to what they sell for new --- $150, sometimes. Beautifully made as they are, by an ethical small company, they hold their value very well, but if you persevere you can find them at larger discounts, because somebody just wants to move something along. I bought both my original Dark Blue-Gray Smock dress and my Cinnamon Rose Leila with Christmas money at the end of 2023, and I did pay a bit more for each of them. I've worn both often, and it'll still be a good while before I work down the cost-per-wear into the negatives. But everything else I own from that brand has been a lucky find. And every single one is a dress or top that I genuinely love wearing.
Anyway, I am loving the colors in this current capsule, with the juxtaposition of darker, moodier purples against the soft tones of springtime. Maybe at the end of this nine days I'll make another week-long capsule centered on neutrals, grays and browns, to wear with purple. I could rotate my brown Leila, my Dark Blue-Gray Smock, and my Wool& Marine Blue Fiona, and my Wool& Black Heather Audrey, with . . . uh . . . the same purple cardigan, probably, which might get boring. I'll have to think on that.
I'm still considering just excluding, and therefore fasting from, all my other dress colors until Easter. Not committed to that, just to the principle of wearing purple every day. But it's a thought: a small and trivial penance, but a penance nonetheless, and one I would come to feel.
I think I'll go wash my hair while I ponder this great thought, and then get dressed.
SLIGHTLY LATER:
All clean and ready for the day and evening. Hair partly dry but still pretty damp. Here's what I'm wearing for the daytime portion of Day 1 of my 9x9 challenge:
*Secondhand Banana Republic silk-cotton cardigan, bought February 2025, first year of wear
*Snag cashmere footless tights, first year of wear
*Farm to Feet merino socks, second year of wear