If it ain't broke, don't fix it

a roundup of personal realizations

Fresh from the grocery store with my best accessories (empty snack bowl, long gone turkey wrap, dried up water bottle)

Howdy folks! I give you: self-actualization! For a couple weeks now I’ve been bringing it back to the boat shoes of yore. In my younger days they served solely as a “LOOK HOW PREPPY I AM” battle cry. Do I fit in with the sorority yet?? Case in point, in undergrad I ordered a size too small and never bothered exchanging them because it would’ve cost me an extra week of waiting to bare my sock-less ankles. Those got lost in the shuffle somewhere, but I am the proud new owner of a used pair of Sperrys. This time I miraculously managed to heed the size chart. Let me unabashedly add that once again, I bought them purely for the look BUT in a happy twist of fate, I also discovered they might just be the shoe of summer. The leather, so supple! The soles, so mercifully flat (ya feel me, my archless allies??)! The look, so… my dad!! Yes, Gregory J Mossinghoff has exactly the same pair, which is what my husband, Matthew W Hurley pointed out the first day I stepped out sporting the signature dad gear. If anything, this was just deeply gratifying to come full circle. When you’re four, you just want to match the big people in your life. You also want that at age twenty-nine when you’re shaking loose the last decade of existential crisis and remembering you knew how to be yourself all along. Trust the wise toddler in your heart.

Back then I was just as liable to cut my own hair, a bad habit I’ve indulged with so little consequence that I’m convinced it’s actually good for me. I snapped this picture upon arrival home from the weekly Trader Joe’s run, and if you look closely you’ll notice that that I don’t discriminate when it comes to shearing an edge. My dress is a much more comfortable length now and that’s all I have to say about that. Which leads me to Wisdom of the Week #1 (a series I just invented that probably won’t be recurring) - You KNOW what you need to do! If the dress feels long, just cut it (or head to the tailor if you must). As a recovering self-aggrandizing to-do lister, nothing feels better to me right now than trusting that my body will feel and act on what is most urgent without my brain ever muddying the waters.

At the grocery trip in question, I decided to really go rogue and eschew a list altogether. A truly audacious expedition, to be sure. As much as I enjoy meal planning (give me all the recipes!!), there was a certain confidence, and not to sound too teen anxty but, freedom (cue the Aretha) with shopping off the cuff. If you fail to plan, you plan to fail and all that jazz, but some of us (myself being the some of us to whom I’m referring) have noticed that the world is full of advice-givers (advisors? advicers?). Bless their well-intentioned wisdom, but I can’t say I’m itching for more methods and mindsets and mantras to swallow hook, line and sinker. It’s summer and I would like a long exhale.

Which leads me to…

En route to the mountain bike trail. There were no kids in those background car seats. Just mom and dad, a couple of bikes, seven water bottles and the dog. He ran the whole way and had the time of his gosh darn doodle muffin life.

We went to a tie dye birthday party over the weekend and I brought along this beater of a plain white tee with the noticeable stain so that I could give her a new life and never have to part ways. I wore my capital O, capital S Outfit of Summer, which in hindsight was probably my most harebrained scheme of the weekend. Stunningly, I did NOT ruin the pleated white skirt, though who’s to say a splash of random color wouldn’t have made me love her more. Murphy Jane and I teamed up to wreak havoc, with her flinging dye in unpredictable spurts onto the worn fabric and me furiously trying to mop up the streams of blue and purple that quickly pooled around our feet. There were, of course, responsible, plastic-gloved adults among us. I wasn’t one of them. Watching my fingers become progressively more hued felt very on-brand for summer. Like the material version of watermelon juice running down your arm. If I haven’t said it before (I have), summer is non-negotiably the best season.

Autumn gets a lot of applause for her colors, crispness and pumpkin spiced everything. I’ll play along right up until we’re falling back and forced to call it a day at 4:30pm. Then I revert to complaining about whatever season we’re in until it’s summer again and we’ve regained our 9pm sunsets. The only drawback of summer is that the thermostat of every standing structure in America gets set to “glacial iceberg Arctic, meat locker, freeze your hypothermic hiney off.” But this is hardly the fault of the season herself. She’s just trying to gift us with long, leisurely days and an abundance of blackberries. As an unrelated aside, someone in our home keeps turning off the A/C and the other people who live there keep getting annoyed with her and suggesting she pitch a tent outside.

I feel very in my element in summer as I imagine people who can pull of suede hats at a winery must feel come November. Like all the best things, you can’t force this feeling. Nor can you stop the exhilaration once it arrives (call this Wisdom of the Week #2?). Like creativity, seasonal momentum seems to be something of a positive feedback mechanism, a concept I gleaned from Maya Angelou (“You can't use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”―Maya).

Summer recs!

because what is a roundup without a canva collage!?

1. It appears I have a “type.” Of swimsuit. It’s oddly specific. I used to only wear onesies but in recent years and thanks to the grace of our good Lord, I have joyously kicked the shit out of body insecurity (I say that in a joking way, but it was a long road and I send a hug to everyone who felt it, feels it, wants to break free). Since I’ve been pregnant, bikinis are a must because I can wear before and after the bump, and most notably, DURING. Swim suits are randomly expensive enough without inching toward maternity wear, another category, like anything bridal, that with maddening paradox is at least double the normal price. It’s not even that much more fabric, so don’t even. I’ve tried (with dollops of frustration) handfuls of suits and here’s the breakdown of why the above Billabong works - a) durable b) tie back so you can adjust depending on intensity of water activity (crank it on good so when a toddler foot climbs up your shoulder it won’t budge an inch) c) NOT high rise (I know these are all the rage but forgive me for saying I do not like high waisters, at least not on me. I will never not look like I’m wearing a diaper. Also it sits comfortably below a distended belly) d) top is cut in such a way as to not earn excessively obscure tan lines. I’m five months pregnant in the above pic, fyi. I think this might be an out-of-circulation set but this and this will both do the trick credibly if you’d like to test my theories.

2. I’ve found a way to do caprese that isn’t disappointing. The disappointment being in the logistics, not the flavor. I.e. When you try to get a full bite of all three players (the holy trinity, as it were) and you end up either slicing with annoying ineffectiveness using the side of a fork or getting a truckload discus of tomato. Especially not ideal when sharing a plate. So just chop up everything dice-like and mix it together. Surely not novel but new to me, so yay.

3. Minus the Taylor (I almost sincerely apologize to you Swifties, but I fully sincerely cannot do melancholy music), I LOVE this playlist. Can’t get enough of LEVII’S JEANS (why it’s in all caps, I haven’t the foggiest). It’s raunchy and tingly tender. None of the words spell it out, but you just know it’s from the heart of someone who delights in intimacy that only ripens to peak sweetness with the gift of comfortably aging.

4. ESSENTIALISM ALL THE WAY!! (by Greg McKeown) I positively refuse to be busy this summer or ever. In truly hypocritical fashion and even as I type with the hopes that some of you, one of you, will find this newsletter enjoyable, I can’t consume much content myself. I’m sure anyone can relate to the craving and need for lots of open time and space to think deeply and clearly. This book is the encouraging reminder that less is more.

5. Reusable swim dipes for the kids! Third summer of these and we aren’t stopping anytime soon. For bigger littles and little littles.

Happy summering, you magical fish! Whether you’re headed upstream or down, just keep swimming! Please enjoy a screenshot of my favorite live stream:

With love and gratitude,

Alli