Hi!
Holy moly we’re well into October. I am resurfacing after—surprise!—a toddler-borne virus attacked our home. Luckily it only took down one resident, but our smallest one, and she was miserable. She couldn’t eat or sleep, which meant no one else could really sleep either, for the better part of a week. But she’s back in action and we’re raising our heads again now. Here’s her SPOOKY face.
Last Tuesday, before the shit truly splattered from the fan, Corey and I went out for our seventh wedding anniversary. For this occasion, I did a few things that used to be normal but now feel special. First, I got dressed up. I wore a Reformation dress that was a gift when a pal did their marketing ages ago. It has a little bump at the shoulder and a zipped-tight bodice. I also washed and dried my hair, and felt sort of like an elderly Disney princess, in a good way. (These ladies are my main visual reference right now, halp.)
I also took a now-rare puff of a joint—just one was perfect!—before we went into the restaurant, which was the third special thing. Oh, the restaurant. We went to Osteria Mozza, which isn’t new or overly hip. It’s a Los Angeles standby in a beautiful room with matte mineral green walls, and flattering lighting. It’s just excellent, in every way. Nancy Silverton, the chef and co-owner, is sort of an Ina Garten-type (in Etro) in the sense that her food is a jumping-off point for a sense of hospitality that’s somehow both tightly run and loosely held.
We were early, so we got a drink at the bar. Rather than a real cocktail, I got a vermouth—a low-proof move I love but often forget about. Osteria Mozza, knowing what’s up, reminded me with a little section for Italian vermouths on the menu. I got an Elena Penna red with a splash of soda, and am considering obtaining a bottle for home.
We also exchanged cards during our vermouth hour. Seven years of marriage with two kids is a healthy stretch that has not always been easy. When writing Corey’s card, I had taken a minute to remember how we got married to begin with. In doing so, I unearthed an email I sent to the Gramercy Park Hotel concierge at 6:17 am on our wedding day, with our vows in an attachment to be printed. Back in the simpler days of 2018, we conceived of those vows as family values, and it was heartening to see that they actually did fortify us over the last several years. They were touchstones worth returning to. We rarely reflect on any of this, so it was lovely to take a self-congratulatory moment over herbaceous vermouths at a big, sexy bar. (And actually, we had vowed to celebrate small victories.)
I probably should have stopped drinking then, but I obviously had wine with dinner, which I regretted on Wednesday when I hadn’t really slept and Nelle began to fall apart. But more powerful than even my middle-aged hangover was the sense of connection with Corey created by a really nice evening out. That connection buoyed us through a brutal week of sleepless nights, when Nelle became a hangry human barnacle affixed to the front of my body. She had Hand Foot Mouth, which is horrific for many reasons. Chief among them is that although the patient is hungry, food, drink, and medicine is extremely painful to their mouth. Even through this, we mostly held onto our senses of humor and camaraderie.
The moral of this story, my friends, is to smoke ‘em if you’ve got ‘em. Whether that means using the babysitter coverage or time off, wearing the nice dress, or literally puffing the pre-roll. Don’t delay to enjoy the thing, because you never know when a virus might steamroll you and take you out of the game, even temporarily. And if that happens, it might feel good to have a selfie of a night when you felt cute, or a note you wrote about a happy time.
Have a good day!
Love,
Jenni
P.S.
If you live in California, for the love of all things sacred, PLEASE VOTE.
P.P.S. Links parade
Trying something new here. I’m going to drop a handful of links relevant to this letter in a list below. Let me know if you like this!
The dress
This is less about buying a specific dress, and more about wearing the thing already burning a hole in your closet that will make you sit up a little straighter. You probably don’t need to shop! That said, mine was a discontinued style from Reformation. The operative features, I think, were a square neckline, substantial cotton poplin, a little puff at the shoulder, and a shape that fit. The Australian brand Matteau has lots of crisp dresses in a variety of silhouettes that could fit the bill. I love this one, in organic cotton poplin. This one from ALC is pricey, but chic and timeless. The stretch would probably make it easy to wear and pack. This one from Reformation is less structured, so it might also be nice layered under a pullover for fall. And finally, I’ve tried this one on from Madewell and it’s great: flattering, versatile, has pockets, and under $100. It runs big; I’m an XXS.
The pre-roll
Ours was a Pure Beauty Sativa Baby. They’re a cool company trying to do things right and the product is on-point.
The restaurant
We went to Osteria Mozza and I’m still thinking about the grilled pancetta-wrapped figs with dandelion greens. (I think we can try it without a recipe?)
The vermouth
I’m pretty sure it was this red vermouth from Elena Spirits—a family-run company in Turin, Italy that makes both vermouths and gins.
If your kid is sick
This isn’t a thing to buy, it’s a thing to remember. I heard it years ago in a Longform interview with author Chuck Klosterman. (You never know where you’ll find great parenting advice!) I’ve written about it before, but I’m sharing it again because it always helps. Here’s Chuck Klosterman:
Sometimes it’s like, you’re doing something with your kid and it’s not super-fun. Especially when they’re little, they’re trying to go sleep and they need someone to hold their hand for forever and just kind of be in the room. And you’re just sitting there, and it takes a long time and you’re thinking about all the things you want to do.
I do imagine in the future, if I had a time machine, this is probably the point I’d want to go back to. I’d want to go back to that time when the relationship between me and my daughter or my son was so kind of deep and profound that we just had to be close to each other for them to feel good, and my ability to be there makes them feel good.
Like: This is a real problem, I really care about, that I can solve. For the most part real problems that are real difficult, there’s nothing I can do. I’m helpless. With a kid sometimes you can actually solve that problem. You just need to love them and be there.
So sometimes, if I’m in that situation and I’m bored, I just tell myself, “Actually you moved back in time. You’re actually 97 and you’re dying, and they gave you access to a time machine, and you came back here. To remember this.”