(Subtitle: Retail Therapy and Dressing for the Online Gatherings. . . .
Alternate subtitle: Justifying unnecessary purchases during a Covid December)
Whether it’s another effect of the pandemic restrictions or not, I’ve been finding that between the time I announce, at the end of one post, what I will write about in the next one. . . I lose interest in that projected commitment and either procrastinate egregiously or quietly abandon the idea and hope you don’t notice.
So about those two new dress I purchased last month and promised, last post, to tell you about later in the week. . .
You can glimpse one of them over at Sue’s Paris Weekend post, although my photo really undersells the dress. I have better ones and I’ll post them here soon. . . . or not 😉 It was the “no-brainer” purchase, the lifetime (easier to say at 67, obviously, than it would have been at 35) goes-anywhere dress. Made of beautiful fabric in a classic-but-with-a-twist style. All the ease of a sweater dress, but the fabric is woven (very fine wool) so holds its shape through multiple wearings. . . has movement, drape, ease. I love it! And in an eminently sensible charcoal. . . .
Dress # 2, though. . . Absolute coup de foudre, love at first sight. . . but. . . the tissue-weight knit cashmere-silk of the top and the shirting-weight-or-lighter silk of the skirt. . . Not practical at all, really. Nor is it warm enough in winter, that light silk skirt. . . yet the cashmere, the long sleeves, the turtleneck, all argue against wear in spring, summer, early fall . . . .
But no one else was in the shop, and although she understood my practicality and knew I was already choosing the grey dress, the Sales Assistant invited me to try it on, just for the sheer enjoyment of its poetry (she didn’t wax quite so lyrical, but she wasn’t above working my infatuation just a little). She even offered to take a photo of it for me. . .
She suggested my husband should know about it, with Christmas coming and all . . . But, you know, we pool our money, and getting him to buy the dress wouldn’t make it free, nor would it be a surprise, nor shift responsibility for buying it, really. . . It was a gorgeous, impractical purchase of something that didn’t suit my lifestyle, and I wasn’t buying it, in any sense of that expression. . .
Except. . . .
All the deprivations of Covid, which are obviously manageable, and we know we’re lucky overall and relatively, and I’m pretty sensible, but somehow, images of that dress kept surfacing. Duchesse wondered, in a comment on my last post, whether such purchases — which we know to be unnecessary, particularly now when we’re not going anywhere — might be a form of protest. I suspect she’s onto something. A protest against being sensible, day after day. Or, more positively, a reward for good pandemic behaviour. Or, perhaps even more positively, a way of staking a claim in a future when we will be able to go out again.
Or, you know, it might just be that I’m rationalizing a hard-to-justify purchase.
You might already know that, on that same first visit to this neighbourhood shop, I bought an eminently sensible sweater dress but left behind a colourful, folkloric wool skirt that I later returned for, a skirt that has been bringing me joy on the regular! And on both those visits I was resolute in knowing the artsy-floaty-poetry dress wasn’t for me. . .
And then the shop announced its winter sale.
Photos of the dress (by a Portuguese company, Traces of Me) in its new home, on its new owner. . .
The story continues, as the new owner began complaining about the challenges of taking decent Selfie shots in a mirror in a small condo with too many reflections, when one isn’t any kind of Style Blogger at all. . .
Enough complaining that new owner’s Husband bravely stepped in and offered to snap a few photos. I have to say, he’s brave and he’s generous, but he really can’t snap. Not without many, many seconds of pondering . . . and then trying to remember which buttons do what on my iphone. . . .as my face freezes and my pose seems entirely foolish. . .
so that by the time I see the photos he’s “snapped,” I first cull the 10 with my mouth weirdly open and the 5 with my eyes weirdly closed. . .
before I begin wondering why the dress that I love makes me look — oh, you supply the adjectives, while I have a word with my ridiculous Inner Critic. . .
I also got critical with the state of my home. . .
thinking that I should have shifted the stack of music out of the way,
moved the discordant throws and pillows
transferred that vase of dried hydrangea to another corner. . .
made a more rigorous effort towards minimalism. . .
but finally reconciled myself and my home and our images and my temporary grumpy discontent . . . to recognize my good fortune all over again. . . (did some of the work, in other words, that I did in this post, from almost five years ago, where I mused about the gap between camera’s eye and my sense of self)
And I got ready to wear my new dress to one of our most important social gatherings of this season.
There I am, all dressed up and ready for the cork to pop on our family’s Lambrusco-tasting event hosted by Facebook, and bringing together ten adults and six kids on five (sometimes six) different screens in three cities, on two continents. . . .I even dabbed on some lipstick, since no mask was required.
Yet somehow, even though no masks were required . . . filters were played with. . .
and somehow these images seem to be the prevailing family record of the day. . . .
Could have worn my pyjamas. . .
So after all that Self(ie) Exposure, I’d love to hear (read) your responses to anything in this post that resonates with you. And I know there are a few too many photos here (I think I might even have a duplicate in there, but Blogger makes it so cumbersome to change photo placement now, that I’m leaving as is) . . . but they express much of the exposure I feel . . .
As I wrote at the end of that 2016 post in which I wondered about the camera’s representation, I’m not looking for reassurance about my appearance here. Just reflecting on and amused by the process and the emotions it stirs. And wanting to share a new favourite dress with my friends here. And wondering if you’ve dressed up for an online event that you could have worn pyjamas too? Or bought dresses (or other garments) whose practicality you questioned but which called to you insistently enough that you eventully succumbed? (and tell me, then, whether you regretted or celebrated that surrender?)
Or, you know, anything you’d like to share here today, on Solstice, four days before Christmas. As for me, I’m going to see if I can get the rest of the cards in the mail by tomorrow. Not likely, so I’ll fall back on the more European approach for the ones that don’t make it. My French friends tell me they can be sent as New Year’s greetings all the way into February. Merci beaucoup!!
xo,
f
Cashmere and silk lovely! Wear a heavy slip to add warmth? Seems perfect for boots as well ..and for spring!
That dress is very practical, IMO 😉 Wear it with joy.
The dress looks fabulous…..your home is just fine…..I prefer the Blogs that are "real" versions of life over the picture perfect Instagram nonsense
I enjoyed this post for the very reason that you so honestly expressed your joy in this dress. And it looks great on you! Funny that you should mention wearing pyjamas – I was just thinking that I would do that on our family Zoom get together on Wednesday before Christmas. In normal times we have gone out to afternoon tea (the women) and to have drinks and appetizers (the men). But these are not normal times, so why not pyjamas? Of course, it will be my best, dressiest pyjamas! Enjoy that gift to yourself and have yourself a merry Christmas!
slf
If ever there was a time for our inner critic to can it, surely it is now. But I find mine seems to have taken on a new lease of life, undoubtedly due to anxiety around the increasingly serious Covid situation here in the UK. At some point I will have to put it back in the box or just throttle it slowly to death. In many ways it will be easier to get on once Christmas is over and we can brace the shoulders again. Family Zoom fun: simple and extremely good for the soul.
I disagree with your assessment of the practicality. There are always moments in early spring or late fall when bulky sweaters are overkill or anathema yet one needs a little warmth. Not too much. Just enough. This dress will be it. Or when you get to once again enter a theater, which tend to be a little chilly unless you're in the nosebleed seats (at the opera in Bordeaux those are called "Paradise"–way to put lipstick on a pig).
Your home looks so inviting. I am real estate shopping and it is an exercise in disappointment. Brightness and windows are among the many reasons. They are wonderful in winter, but in summer, in this land sans clime (and where A/C is actually forbidden in the historic center where I'm looking), big, sun-drenched windows are a recipe for being sweat-drenched in July and August. Or shutting out the sun and living in a dark cave. I love your place, with that piano, those windows and that terrace. And your art!
I always feel that belated gratulations prolong the festivity and the liturgical Christmastide runs until February 2nd – so you (and I) have time enough! Keep on enjoying your dress – and a remark about the rooms: I came to your post after browsing houseandgarden.co.uk and the transition to your rooms was harmonious 🙂
Alternatively, you might ask if we've slipped out in the early morning hours to buy an essential grocery item wearing pyjamas under windpants and parka?
Your new dress is lovely and I think you'll find lots of chances to wear it. Fleece tights? And it's nice right now to think of the possibility of outings that require nice clothes. (I wonder how it would pack? Silk does crease but irons so easily.)
That dress definitely was made for you. Imagine yourself as a walking poem!
Laura J: Thanks! And I do have wool tights, so with boots it should be cosy. . .
K: Thanks! I will joyfully be doing my best to prove its practicality (points against are the delicate fabric and declared need for dry-cleaning — I'll have to wear a bib!
Lauren: I do my best at "keeping it real" here 😉
slf: Fancy pjs could be a novel way to make this Christmas even more memorable . . . who knows, you might even start a new tradition 😉
Annie G: Yes, no arguing that the situation is worrisome. Nor that we somehow have to keep being sensible but also finding ways to have fun, be joyful, be connected. Family Zoom Fun is a good start (although, my, our version took energy — chaotic fun!
Taste: I'm counting on your assessment (and Kristin's) being right — thanks! I do love the light in this place — the windows are not great in summer — once the temperature gets to mid-20s, so we have a small A/C in our bedroom. But this is a grey city, a grey wet climate, and the light makes such a difference.
Zagorka: Good point — I have at least a month ahead, then, to get cards sent out. And that's very kind of you to say about my home.
Geogia: Ha! You'd need really warm pjs for that where you are! I used to go for a walk around our little island in my pyjamas (under a coat,of course) if I couldn't get back to sleep in the wee hours. . . I do have wool tights, so that might be the answer. As for the packing (dare I even dream of travel?) I think it will be okay, might even "un=crease" next to/in the shower. . .
Lucky to have such a nice shop to visit. Haven't been in a clothing/department store since I visited London in January. I've lost so much weight this year that I've had to buy almost all new clothes–all online–all casual. A tricky thing as I've not only changed several sizes, but also changed my style and color choices a bit, too (avoided too much black). Haven't tried to purchase anything remotely as lovely as your dress (in fact, no dresses or skirts). Might as well reward yourself for making it through this tough year.
What a lovely dress and I love the family zoom. In these times our inner critic needs to take a time out. I bought some clothes in the spring for a conference, and they are still sitting in my closet with the price tags on due to COVID. Hopefully in 2021 I can wear them, but I refuse to feel guilty that I bought them. I'm in the midst of a series of surgeries (Christmas, especially during COVID, is not a good time for this, but we don't always have a choice), and my husband is buying me a new phone so we can communicate better when visitors are not allowed. Again, not strictly necessary, but it will make the days easier.
Frances,I love the dress,the colours,the combination- you look excellent. You're helping local bussinesses. Win-win!
If I may suggest: just wear it,like any other dress and enjoy it. Beautiful textures – you'll be happy all the time
When I wear light satin silk dress under a cashmere turtleneck in winter,I wear thick leggings over tights (with boots and coat). Last winter season it was combo for theatre,this year I wear it for everything (which means grocery shopping or pharmacy) and enjoy every minute.
Hi to Instagram Husband!
Dottoressa
I agree with Dottoressa-just wear it, and wear the hell out of it in defiance. Take that pandemic! That thinking could explain my Kurt Geiger pointy-toed, studded boots equal to half a ticket to somewhere nice. They will be worn, uhm, around the house and to kick the pandemics ass..when I have time.
Hate photos of myself as well. Three people who love me dearly have told me for years I am the most unphotogenic person they know. Whereas, my sister looks like a movie star when mucking out the stalls in jeans and a sweatshirt in every photo taken of her.
The family get-together photos are priceless: a moment in time, soon to be in our rear-view mirrors, we can hope.
A.in London
Such a fabulous dress, Frances! I love the colors, and the cut on you.
Sometimes we just have to say "yes."
Love the colours in that dress, Frances. And Paul's attempts at snapping. Stu is the same. Makes my feet look tiny, presses the wrong button, blames my phone. Ha. My tripod with the bluetooth clicker was the best fifty bucks I ever spent. I can snap away unselfconsciously and delete 95% of the photos. 🙂
Your home looks lovely and airy and cosy at the same time. How do you do that?
P.S. Have good holiday my friend. Savour a glass of wine, wearing your new dress, and reading aloud from an interesting book while Paul makes dinner. xo
Your new dress is really lovely on you, Francis. And the close-up of you with your glasses is beautiful. You are very pretty.
I think I'll suggest and Facebook get-together with my Ottawa family over the holidays.
Merry Christmas
Janet
Mary: I hope that the weight loss was a choice, for positive reasons, and that you feel good about it. Sounds as if the year, tough as it's been, is allowing you some fallow time for re-invention . . .
Lynn: Best wishes for your surgeries and the isolation involved — the phone purchase sounds like a very good idea. And you can check in here and let us know it's going or has gone well.
Dottoressa: Instagram Husband says Hello back to you! (we have such good memories of our times together). I'm taking this advice about the dress — following the same impulse that made me buy it!
A (not) in London 😉 Those boots! Good for you! And keep kicking, would you? We really need this gone!
CarolP: Traces of Me is a Portuguese company. . . keep an eye out when you get there 😉
Sue B: You've inspired me to add a line in my little to-do notebook: Check London Drugs for tripod/bluetooth clicker, affordable . . . I also find your suggested holiday plan inspiring. Pretty much followed it exactly yesterday!
Janet: Thanks for the kind words! Consider the on-line get-together. They can be chaotic, but they're definitely fun. Let me know if you do . . .