During the course of my inevitable existential reconsiderings that have come to be considered intrinsic to this time of year, I realised that I'm something of a cynic. Humorous self-deprecation and mental health instability aside, day-to-day I have noticed my tendency towards negativity and a kind of fatalism that is perhaps both predictable and uncharacteristic for someone at the tender age of twenty-one. It sometimes, however, does feel as if the universe is conspiring against me - I had intended to post this last night but I found myself stuck on a train in an underground tunnel between Regent's Park and Oxford Circus for an hour after work (seriously)
This year I resolve to really try to choose to focus on the positive mindset towards aspects of my life that could be otherwise cast in shadow - one of these is the occasionally mind-numbing routines that make up our Mondays to our Fridays which I instead prefer to frame in the more meditative terms of ritual. One place in which I see this notion manifest is in the rise of magazines such as 'Kinfolk' whose recipe book 'The Kinfolk Table' I was delighted to have found beneath the tree just a few weeks ago. The book, which will no doubt feature on 'The Beet Generation' (previously 'Paisley & Peeptoes') again before long, places the much-neglected pleasures of small gatherings at the heart of its philosophy, incorporating the stories of the people & the ingredients that feature in the recipes to evoke the intimacy of rubbing butter into flour and staining wine glasses burgundy with burgundy.
In the spirit of cherishing the cosy familiarity that comes with these creations of tradition, the beginnings of collections, I thought that I would share a handful of my own new year rituals with you.
Rifle Paper Co Vintage Blossom Notebook - £14.95 for two
Paperways Mini Notebook - £2.49 each
1.
As many blogs' pre-Christmas wish lists show, the acquiring and christening of new notebooks and journals at the start of the year is a ritual in which many of us participate. Having finally caught up with the 'Liberty of London' series aired on Channel 4 lately (sadly no longer on 4od so you'll have to be, ahem, imaginative) & been duly reminded of my latent love of the London department store, it was to glorious 'Liberty' that I proposed a trip when my mum & sister visited the capital last week. Ordinarily harbouring the thriftiness of my student days (I still make daily packed lunches), I decided to treat myself to these two lovely notebooks from Rifle Paper Co. Not only was I struck by their gorgeous prints, I have been keen to support the work of this small business so obviously overflowing with talent (one look at founder Anna Bond's Instagram will have you convinced) for a long while & they are a source of constant creative inspiration.
Next up on our rainy pilgrimage was to one of my favourite bookshops, the 'Foyles' flagship on Charing Cross Road where I found it difficult to resist the unusually patterned pages of these little notebooks just itching to be filled with mid-week shopping lists & lunchtime doodles. Also accompanying me to the second floor jazz cafe at the bookshop for tea & a raspberry & white chocolate bakewell (yum!) was my trusty Frankie Diary - another of my favourite magazines and the second of their journals that I've owned, both so staggeringly unique & which have given me real comfort as crafted artefacts in a world increasingly dominated by emails & ebooks (boo hiss)
Proudly pinned alongside my boyfriend's 'Yoga Kittens 2014' is also my calendar of William Morris prints, for which I have long had an affection and which, lucky girl as I am, also adorn the paper & envelopes of a writing set I also received at Christmastime.
2.
On the theme of my sentimental love of objects in which their craft & beauty is self-evident, I introduce my burgeoning collection of Persephone volumes. A small London press dedicated to the publication of little known or under-valued (predominantly) female writers, I first discovered Persephone as one of their dove-grey editions piqued my interest on the shelf of one bookshop or another; initially charmed by their strong aesthetic both outside and in, the latter pattern of the dustjacket hand-picked to relate to the content of the tale told, I was soon drawn in by their eclectic range of authors and eras too. Overwhelmed by the lush range in their shop on Lambs Conduit Street one gloomy afternoon, the room itself all free-standing lamps, vases of tulips and humming classical music, my local Oxfam decided on the first two that would find their way to my windowsill - 'The Wise Virgins' by Leonard Woolf & 'Someone at a Distance' by Dorothy Whipple. I may well scribble some full-length reviews once I've made some time for them but, in the meantime, subscribe to the press' brilliant (& free!) biannually & browse their ever-growing catalogue here.
3.
The last ritual which rolls around in January time is my being the recipient of a jumper from my boyfriend's sweet grandmother, Audrey. To join my navy number of last year (no reindeer or snowmen here, folks!) arrived this perfectly soft mustard yellow sweater (interestingly & unashamedly my fifth item of knitwear in this darling hue) that I cannot wait to wear over polka dots & tucked into waist high stripes. It struck me as odd & rather lovely that, in spite of all of the knowledge that might evade us in old age, the rhythm & ritual of knit one, purl one still endures.
& with that, I'm off to trim my fringe & make a start on some veggie bolognese.
Speak soon - O.
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