You may have noticed in our Zoom call the other day that I was wearing a dress.
I know! It was such a not-pants, not-athleisurewear thing to do. I felt like I was going to a wedding or a party or an event or, well, anywhere. It got me thinking.
The last time I wore that dress in public was February 21, 2020, when the Nashville Symphony threw a party for Beethoven’s 250th birthday. There was cake. A big crowd. I went with Katie and Kristin to the pre-concert gathering, and we all listened to the musical director crack Beethoven jokes, regale us with Beethoven stories, and generally get us really excited that Beethoven had been born 250 years ago.
Then, we all crowded into the stairwells to cram ourselves into a beautiful space where we all sat, elbow to elbow, breathing freely, unmuted by masks, as the Nashville Symphony Orchestra let loose with three Beethoven works.
It was a gift, that evening. Yet at the time, I didn’t treasure it the way I’m treasuring it right this minute. And wearing that dress was such a part of that night.
Your Closet as Field Trip
This dress-wearing episode has led me to other archaeological excavation of my closet. What other tender memories could I unleash?
Sweaters in particular are a deep vein of discovery. I’ve been pulling out a sweater each day, some of which have been in deep storage for a long time, and each one tells me its own unique story. Each sweater—every single one—is larded up with memory. The making, the wearing, the yarn, all of it.
Highly recommended as a thing to do. I think you’ll be surprised at what a lift it is to wear a thing you made. How it takes you on a trip.
So I’ll ask: what’s the handknit that is most filled with memories for you?
PS You can listen here to the three Beethoven works that we heard, if you’re looking for a good playlist for a Tuesday.