Spring so Far
Yoga, Failed Runs, Beaches, Gloom, Outfits
I love looking around before class starts (never during, I am a respectful yogi) to see what people are wearing. Tonight there's a really cute girl who is wearing what I presume are her partner's — the boy whose mat is next to mine, who's wearing a camo quarter zip — basketball shorts with a gray t-shirt that says something funny about catching a bass. There's a large bass on the back of the shirt and it’s making me feel a bit nostalgic. The whole outfit is something I definitely wore as a child, shorts passed down to me from Clay that are so long they’re sitting just a hair above my ankles. The shirt reminds me of something I used to have from Bass Pro Shop, and I wonder if maybe hers came from there, or maybe it's from a local restaurant of her home state of like… I don’t know North Carolina? Maybe it's also borrowed from her boyfriend. Maybe she got it at goodwill.
There's a girl wearing a pair of capri-length adidas track pants, they're black as is her cropped cotton ribbed tank top. Very cute.
Then there is me. I'm dressed in what I wore on my attempted run earlier, which lasted only one mile due to a pain in my left leg that was so sudden and unexpected that I immediately stopped running to call my mom and tell her that my leg was hurting. She said she'd have to call me back because she was at the Tecovas store with Clay and Jules. Walking off the pain, I decided instead of going home I’d go to yoga for a deep stretching class to help my tight leg muscles. Which is how I ended up wearing bright leggings and a long sleeve shirt designed for movement and sweat to a Yin yoga class. I feel it worth acknowledging that while I’m not mad at the cute girls in my class who are wearing their boyfriend’s clothes, I wish I looked a little more like them and a little less like a cross country runner. But, whatever. You can’t always dress the part.
I fell asleep during the sound bath at the end of the class. I quickly started to dream — I was at a club, on my way to tell Charlie about who he’d never believe I just met at the bar. I had to walk down three or four black stairs that looked like they were shiny and made of vinyl to meet him. I made it down one step before slipping, when my arm —both the arm that existed in the club dream space, reaching out to grab onto the silver railing there and also the arm that is real and connected to my body, my body that is on my mat in a deep shavasana — went flying in the air.
I was embarrassed at the thought of my teacher seeing that sudden movement but mostly I was thankful for my body’s reflex, because I then spent the rest of the sound bath still kind of asleep and dreaming, but also very much aware of my body and its place in the room, aware of the sounds from the gong and how they felt ringing through me — an awareness that wouldn’t have been established if I hadn’t fallen on my way to talk to Charlie at the club. My mom tells me it’s good that I am able to get that relaxed during class.
I’ve noticed that I never dream that much on Sunday nights, something about the exhaust from the weekend, I think — it's typically the one night of the week where I wake up and I'm confused to see the sky is bright outside, and when I try to recount the scenes and conversations from my dreams I find that there is nothing to be recounted. As a result, I’m more tired on Mondays. I choose to believe that this tiredness comes not from the aforementioned exhaust from the weekend, but instead is a result of the lack of dreams. And I don’t claim to know much about science/data but I do kind of think that there is actual scientific backing, or something like that, to what I am saying.
I was in Mexico last weekend for my soon-to-be-Sister In Law’s bachelorette party. I was with my family, wearing caftans, drinking piña coladas (White Lotus trigger warning) and getting lots of sun. I’m sorry to make you jealous. When I showed Charlie pictures from my trip, my outfits specifically, he said “oh, yeah you were definitely doing your own thing.” He is right, and I will continue to do my own thing hopefully for as long as I’m alive, no matter what city, what state, what country, what climate, what group I am in — and maybe someday my thing will look different but for now it is long dresses and baggy silhouettes and color and random accessories. And unfortunately it’s still not my thing to look like a cute and cool girl at yoga.
Sharing two selfies below to show you how to make a work tool an accessory and how the right mask with the right sweater makes traveling while sick chic.
Today I’m wearing a groutfit — actually more of a muted bloutfit (just coined this term)— because, as you know, I woke up very tired this morning and didn’t have it in me to wear color like I normally try to do when it’s sad and cold and rainy outside. Instead I am camouflaged perfectly with the sky today and it’s nice to have my black Salomon’s on again. I had to stop wearing them for a little bit because my feet — innocently trying to slip into, walk around in and slip out of these shoes — have somehow made a hole on the heel and there’s some rubber that now rubs against my socks directly and causes serious discomfort. This problem has not been resolved but I have some big plans that involve moleskin and topstick, and I really just needed to get over it for one day so I could wear black sneakers in the rain. I’ve had this rubber ankle situation happen once before, with my at-the-time-beloved Outdoor Voices mint green Hokas. Which reminds me — the Marni x Hoka collaboration is very cute, no? I wonder what Ty Haney thinks of it. Thank you Grace for showing me.
Apparently Starbucks employees are now being required to write little notes on every order or something? Usually mine are funny because they’re kind of sad and clearly rushed; I don’t mind because it makes me laugh but they are seriously never as cool as Lindsey’s or Rachel’s. Today’s, though… I don’t know. There’s somehow a lot of character in these three lines.
Have a lovely week.
XO,
Kennedy
Highlights of this post:
The tape measure accessory💖
The description of your outfit as a child
Your abrupt re-entry into the world at the end of your yoga class
Love your writing!🥰
i did express concern before saying i would call u back … just for the record