Using the good china to eat a brownie
Formal teas, a tutu over her soccer uniform
Toothsome brioche sandwiches in the woods
Bringing champagne to a campsite
I believe in denim and diamonds. Not in the same way one believes in Santa, the Tooth Fairy, or in the Half His Age Plus Seven rule. But I put confidence in mingling the mismatched. I won’t say that I’m all about flea market finds because that would be a balls out lie–I don’t have the patience or vision. But I do love the idea of taking our beloved comforts–as threadbare and raggedy-ass as they are–out for a candlelit sea-swept dinner. Sweatpants with a chunky watch, diamond studs. Buttery jeans with cocktail party drop earrings. Tattered jeans with bejeweled wedding slippers.
(Midnight Snack packs for guests from Jo Gartin’s Weddings)
It’s why I adore all things wedding. The bagel + cream cheese wrapped up in the Sunday paper, as a to-go parting favor at a Saturday evening event: does it for me every time. I believe those small wedding touches should lead to lifelong gropes.
I’ve never understood, for example, why magazines highlight beauty tips for the day of, and not all the days ever after. Wouldn’t you always want that clean pressed bright-eyed beauty look? We all want to feel as if a fresh bouquet of flowers is awaiting our arrival, that small girls with golden ringlets admire us, and want nothing more than to throw petals at our manicured feet.
It’s why I strive for (read: obsess over) those special occasion touches in my everyday. Okay, more realistically, it’s why I make it my business to include some fanciful something into our lives monthly (weekly, depends on the month).
– I love the idea of using a piping bag for mashed potatoes or pureed carrots
– Taking a soup can (opening both ends) and creating stacks of vertical food within (this week calls for a vertical cobb salad)
– With game night approaching, I plan to bake brownies, decorating them like dominoes, baking heart and spade sugar cookies (then freezing extra for game nights to come)
– Concocting fanciful summer drinks with sugared rims and sliced booze-soaked stone fruits
– Foxy jell-o shots, layered with cream, fresh berries floating within
(Stacked Salad from Working the Plate: The Art of Food Presentation)
I try to step back and analyze why these things matter so much to me, or rather, why they make me come alive with thoughts of possibilities, and I can’t quite say. I think I’m just driven by these small approaches, to baking and making the extraordinary fit into our “how was your day at work” day live, because life is too short to always be using the paper towel roll as our napkins. Sometimes your water goblet just sings out to be garnished with a paper-thin slice of cucumber. Like a good lipstick, sometimes a melon-baller really can make everything better.
BTW, I’m fully aware that this content makes me appear equal parts insane, sheltered, and vapid. At least I’m not unaware.
Am I alone here? Does no one else revel in the incongruity of it all?