Anything Can Happen Friday- Writing Clothes

The NY Times recently wrote an article asking writers about what they wore writing. The vast majority said some version of pajamas/sweats/bathrobes. One of the writers asked said that if someone said anything other than pjs/sweats/robes they were lying- because really, you want to be super comfortable when you are writing.

So, I post the question to you:

What do you wear when you’re writing?

For me, it depends on what time I’m writing. If I’m writing on a non gym day, or before I go to the gym, I am most probably in a robe and pajamas (as I am now). Sometimes, I will write in my gym clothes, but really, they’re glorified sweats, and this would be a pre gym thing. This is usually blog writing time, as I tend to blog write first thing, and I always write posts before I do serious writing- my blog is my warm-up.

For actual work in progress writing, I am almost always in sweats or leggings. I’m almost always in an oversized t shirt. Depending on how cold I am, I either wear a zip up hoody, or a bathrobe over the t shirt/leggings thing…

I need to feel comfortable. I want soft fabrics and clothes that drape and don’t cling. I have also been known to literally spill the tea, so I want something that I don’t care if it gets stained. I want an all purpose writing uniform…

But I want to know:

What do you wear when you’re writing? Do you have a lucky shirt? Something soft and comfy? Something that makes you feel scholarly?

It’s your turn: What do you wear for writing?

Another Blog About Shoes

My Daughter thinks I should up my shoe game.


I have reached the magical age where I tell my Mother the things that she needs to do, and I send her reminders AND my daughter tells me all the things that are wrong with my personal style. Who said your late fifties weren’t fun?!

I recently went to a wedding. As I had tossed all my dressy shoes out early in pandemic (I decided that heels were the devil) I needed to purchase a pair of shoes that looked nice with my fun, party dress, but also treated my feet like the ladies that they are. So I bought a low heel shoe with some sparkle on top. Cute and practical and good for an evening out. I loved them. I showed them to my daughter via Zoom. She was less than impressed. Way less…

“How could you wear those shoes?” she asked

“I put them on my feet, strap the buckle and I walk” I replied.

She was not amused.

“Why are you making yourself old?” she asked.

I took a beat and thought about it. Does buying low heeled shoes signify getting old? Does it mean I no longer care how I appear to others? Does it mean that I am giving up?




I guess that the beauty of aging is realizing what is important to the individual. Yes, perhaps buying lower heels as I age signifies that my feet are not quite as springy as they used to be. I have some tendon issues that make angling my foot in a heel very tenuous. It also makes wearing flip flops a problem because I can’t really “grip” with my toes without causing pain. With age comes the realization that I don’t have to be put fashion first.

I also care about the way I look. I really wanted my shoes to match the look of my dress. I was wearing a cocktail dress, and I I wanted cocktail shoes…I wanted something that was a little fancier than my everyday kicks. However…I don’t care what others think of my look. If people mock me due to my pretty yet sensible shoes, so be it.

Of course, wearing low heeled shoes does not mean that I am old. It just means that I don’t wear high heeled shoes. Period. One does not correlate to the other.

We all change as we age. We toss some things out as we bring others in. It’s neither good nor bad: it’s just learning who we are and what makes us happy. So cheers to the upside of aging- figuring out who we are and liking it.

The Comfy Blanket

I bought a blanket yesterday.  A throw actually, you know, it’s the kind of thing that sits on the edge of you bed or you couch, and you pull it over yourself as you sip your tea and read your book, maybe nibble on a cookie.  A soft, comfy blanket.

I know you’re now thinking, OMG, is she going to write a blog about buying a blanket?

Yes, I am.

I am a somewhat frugal person.  I try not to spend money unnecessarily. I also don’t like buying things on principal- I have a small apartment with very little storage space.  I’m pretty Kondo in that if I don’t love it I don’t buy it.  So I carefully weigh every purchase before I take out the plastic.

Now I have a throw that resides on my couch.  It’s a bit old, and a bit beat up, but it’s still functional.  Technically, I didn’t need a new one.  Technically.  But we had a run of below freezing temperatures.  I’d read a book about Hygge…..

Hygge.  Do you know about it?  It’s the Danish concept of warm and comfy.  They espouse scented candles, game nights, fireplaces, hot beverages, comfy clothes, and soft luxurious throws.  Yes.  A lifestyle philosophy that is all about comfort.  Sign me up.

So when I was shopping for practical things (my neck needed a new pillow badly) I managed to wander over to the blanket section.  It was like 15 degrees out, and I sat there rubbing my hands over all these blankets.  It would have been erotic if not for the fact I was in a large, florescent lit store, and the blankets were housed in industrial shelving.

But I didn’t buy the blanket.  I walked out of the store with my pillow but nothing else.

I dreamt about the blanket.  Seriously.  I woke up with visions of velvety soft blankets running through my head.  The good angel on one shoulder said “You don’t need the blanket.  Save the 24.99 minus the 20% off coupon.  That can be used for something else.”  Other shoulder, bad angel said “Oh just buy the freaking blanket.  It’s a blanket.  It’s practical.”

Yesterday, I caved.  I walked to the store.  You can actually blame that on the above freezing temperatures- I was thinking of it as exercise cause it takes 15 minutes to walk to the store.  I went to the lower level (see- you can make any sort of analogy you want about me having to descend to get the blanket).  I grabbed the blanket after I found the most luxurious one and sprinted up the escalator to the registers.  I was buying it before I changed my mind.

I walked home with a big smile on my face.

And last night,  I cut open the packaging, took the cardboard stays out, and just pushed my face into it.  Oh, the soft velvety feel on my face.  I put on my pajamas, brewed a pot of tea, grabbed my e reader and curled up on the couch.  I pulled the blanket over me.

So happy.

Sometimes you have to do something for yourself.  Sometimes you have to get exactly what you want.  I don’t mean shopping as therapy- I don’t believe in that.  But every now and them you’re allowed to have a treat.  My treat was this soft, luxurious wonderful blanket.  It just made me feel good.  And tonight, it will make me feel good.  And tomorrow…..

You get the idea.