With Valentine’s Day fast approaching next week, my mind naturally goes to all of the loved-up colors in the world: reds and pinks and pastels seem to be bursting out of my closet with glee. I know there are some that see St. Valentine’s as a harbinger of gloom – but remember that February 14th is first and foremost about loving yourself.
Valentine’s Day does take on a romantic connotation for me as well. When Mr. Dressed and I were first dating, I would say our “courting” period was punctuated with the modern day equivalent of love letters: Email and texts. Though it doesn’t sound all that romantic, when I look back and see the sheer time and care that went into writing those emails and texts (seriously, I would lose at least an hour a day composing them, and the same for him). And we were really funny – I still laugh out loud at his storytelling abilities. Oh how witty you can be when you’re trying to impress… It makes me smile like nothing else can. Nowadays, although most of our emails consist of “can you pick up milk on your way home from work?” (me) or “your dress was delivered – woohoo!” (him) I still marvel at those early days. Where love was new and fresh.
But I love the now – where we have our perfect rhythm. Our traditions and ways of doing things. And they are quite different – then and now. Neither period is better or worse or more or less special. The beginning is always fresh and fraught with the excitement of the unknown. The now is like being enveloped in a passionate yet comfortable hug, safe and secure in the knowledge that someone knows me best. And the tomorrow way into the future I see two rocking chairs, side by side on a porch, coffee mug in one hand, the other in each others.
Back for one of our early anniversaries, Mr. D made me a book. He had collected all of our emails and all of our text messages from those early days and put them in chronological order, punctuated with photos of our beginning. To this day, it’s probably one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given. To have your love story typeset and bound. To see our early flirtations, the schmoopiness blossoming in every word. To read the Start of Us. It’s priceless to me.
So this year, the Mr and I are celebrating as all loved up couples should: with a vat of melted cheese! Despite all of the cliche’s and the “Hallmark Holiday” connotations – we love taking a night out and celebrating each other. And this year we both agreed that nothing says celebration quite like fondue.
Before then, I have a weekend of work to get through. Because that’s the true love story – the one wrapped around real life. With errands to run and bills to pay and lectures to write. With stress and craziness and the whirlwind of life (C’est la vie right?). But then he tucks a mug of coffee into my hand, kisses me on the forehead, and reminds me what love is.
C’est la vie, indeed…
Dress: Word from the Bird (similar modern or vintage here, here & here)
Necklace: Modcloth (similar)
Belt: gift, Alannah Hill (similar)
Handbag: Vintage Ancestor (similar here & here)
Lucite Heels: Vintage (similar modern & vintage)