Grow Up Fast

Dress: thrifted * Scarf: gift * Thigh-high socks: Target * Tights (not seen): c/o We Love Colors * Snowboots: thrifted

When I left the apartment to take pictures of my outfit yesterday, I was greeted by an otherworldly fog that filled up and enveloped our courtyard. It was laundry room fog, which also meant that it smelled divine, like freshly-dried laundry. I adore that smell. I remember, as a kid, standing outside of our house, where the vent from the laundry room let out its hot air, and smelling the warmth and comfort of the laundry. Such an odd thing to be so comforting, but it's one of those smells that ranks up there with warm cookies and clean babies. I find smells to be incredible and so powerful in their connection to memory. A well-timed smell can bring you to a totally different moment in your life, or bring back someone long gone and much missed. I remember, walking through the Italian neighborhood of Boston last fall and getting these constant whiffs of my grandmother's perfume and feeling as though she had been suddenly transported there with me.

Growing up, I never thought that my parent's house had any particular smell. Since I was there every day, I didn't associate the place or smell with memories. But now, when I come home for Christmas, even though my parents have long since moved out of the house where I grew up, I'm accosted by the smell of my childhood. It's partly how, despite moving and seeing each other only a few times a year, I know I'm home.

I miss that smell, and that home, and my parents much more this winter than I have in years. I always miss being able to see them frequently, and it's still an adjustment, even after almost four years, to not be able to see them every weekend if I want to. But our Christmas vacation was so relaxing, so comfortable, and so familiar that I think I'm still suffering a bit from a vacation hangover. It's hard to know that it might be months before either of us can visit again, and I can't wait to be sitting on their patio, watching the hummingbirds and listening to music, basking in the smells of home. But for now I'll be content to absorb myself in a laundry room fog of memories.

Title song: Radiohead, "Fog"