Images above and below from Instagram account UnlikeBride. I couldn’t pick just one image — they have so many stunning bridal snapshots!
My youngest sister will be marrying the love of her life in a small ceremony next month. In the long shadow of COVID-19, she and her fiancee made the difficult decision to postpone the big Boston affair they’d dreamed of and planned for over the course of the past year and will instead tie the knot privately, without any of their immediate family: just the two of them, their outsized love for one another, an officiant, and a couple of cherished and lucky local friends. We’ll celebrate from afar over Zoom and then far more riotously when my sprawling clan descends on Boston whenever we are all able to fly out safely in, perhaps (I write hopefully), a year from now.
I am heartbroken for my sister. Every girl deserves the wedding of her dreams, or if not that, at least a day to be held up in love alongside her soon-to-be-spouse by all those who adore her most. My father, equal parts heart-on-his-sleeve and stiff-upper-lip, mentioned rather quietly, tucked in amongst other life updates over the phone one warm recent Sunday evening, that he regrets not being able to walk his youngest down the aisle. This admission and the somber acceptance with which it was issued has left me with my heart in my throat for the several weeks since. A slim, persistent grief that chafes.
I am profoundly moved by their decision to tie the knot in private, in motivated defiance of this damned virus. As I have written elsewhere:
“If there is anything positive I can say about coronavirus, it is that it has reminded me that life finds a way. Babies are born, lovers are married, and still my three-year-old will come home in the afternoon with twigs in her hair and stories of the bee that crawled into her pink shoe.”
Life finds a way; love finds a way. It sprouts up beneath the sidewalk cracks, flourishes in the shade of a rusted-over car, emerges against all odds, tender and slender, from the smallest teacup of soil kept in the window-sill of our narrow Manhattan kitchen.
As a matter of fact, Mr. Magpie asked, rather sheepishly, whether he could carry that small potted plant from our sill with us on vacation a few weeks ago. I watched him make what must have been forty nine trips between the apartment and the car, weighed down like a pack-mule with pack-and-plays, floaties, too many swimsuits, gallons of sunscreen, bins of snack food, cases of wine, bags of dog food, and then this, the most unlikely of traveling companions: the tiny potted basil plant he placed gently in the cupholder of our car and then installed in the small garden of our rental home. This is love in the age of corona: a diminutive yet defiant sprout that must be nurtured to the extreme, ferried cautiously wherever we go, held up to the light, celebrated for the shock of its beneficence when much else feels unremittingly dark.
And so, an early toast to my sister and her partner, in full bloom despite these arid times.
+And this white romper — perfect for a bachelorette! (Also hello Elizabeth K.)
+I am so smitten with this counter spray (it smells SO GOOD; someone else wrote, “It’s as if Jo Malone herself is cleaning your bathroom.” Ha!). In response to a few questions I’ve received about it: I primarily use it for countertops/window-sills but would not use it for heavy-duty cleaning of a tub or greasy cooktop…not as powerful as Fantastik. Anyhow, I love the scent so much I am ordering the coordinating hand soap. This is big news since I’ve long been a devotee of the much-more-expensive Molton Brown.
+Swooning over this coordinating top-and-skirt set.
+Speaking of my sisters: things I tell them to buy.
+And speaking of bow earrings: these dramatic beaded beauties were just restocked!
+This gorgeous tiered, ruffled, and trimmed white dress is now under $100.
+Some of the colorways of this ultra-covetable face mask are restocked!