Today is my seventh wedding anniversary. And I am wearing a really great dress:
If you asked me what my husband and I do to celebrate milestones, I would tell you we go to a nice dinner–without the kids. If you followed us with a camera, I think you would tell ME that what we actually do is treat one another to clothing. Last night, while everyone else was watching the election results roll in, we were off to a lovely restaurant with dim lights and linen tablecloths and a pastry chef who kept bringing tiny treats to our table betwixt courses. That’s right, I said betwixt. It was heaven.
At 4:45, I was getting ready to dry my hair and get dolled up for my man. He arrived home early, I finished putting on my mascara, we settled the children with our oldest as babysitter, and we headed out more than an hour early. Because we were dressed, and the sitter was there, and why not? We figured we’d get a quiet drink before dinner, but when we arrived at the restaurant, we wandered into a boutique next door. My husband had been there years ago and wanted to see if it was as cool as he remembered. It was cooler.
We touched all the men’s sweaters and the suit fabrics. We found him an awesome plaid wool tie–it rocks, and I know that’s a totally weird thing to say about a tie, but seriously:
That is a textured wool tartan plaid classic men’s neck tie, and paired with a chocolate brown corduroy coat with leather elbow patches, my man becomes a college Professor of Smokin’ Hotness. Fantastic present, if I do say so myself–plus, year seven is wool! Which we didn’t even really know, so score!
Across the way, in the ladies department, I brushed my hand across the racks and racks of lovely clothing. The shop was set up like a fantasy closet, each section arranged by color, whole outfits thrusting themselves at you from the racks by sheer force of the goes-together-ness of the hue and texture and fabric. I wanted to roll around in all of it, and not only because the staff gave me a glass of white wine when we first arrived. I discovered the dress above, which is the softest Liberty print baby-wale corduroy you have ever seen. I’m wearing it all day today, no belt, cable-knit cream tights, and feeling like a zillion bucks.
Both my husband and I are insane tightwads. We like nothing better than a good deal, to save a chunk of cash, to get a giant discount, and to have money in the bank. We like to be smart and we’re willing to deny ourselves in order to do that. Maybe that’s why, when I want to give my husband a treat, it’s fun to take him someplace where he can point at the shelf and say, “I like THAT.” And we pay full price. It helps, of course, to know that both of us have garments in regular rotation in our wardrobes that we purchased well over 15 years ago–and I’m pretty sure we each have at least one thing in the closet that still fits and is wearable that’s 20+ years old. Makes me feel like I’ve just made an investment on my husband’s behalf, buying him something he loves now and will love another ten years from now. Something he’ll think every time he puts it on, “Hey, girl, remember that night we bought this together?”
It IS an investment. An investment in his on-going hotness, that is. So, not totally altruistic.
Dinner was amazing. My new dress is amazing. He wore his tie today and looks amazing. Here’s to another 77 years of married awesomeness.
Happy anniversary to us!