Last week I hated Toronto. I was fantasizing about L.A. — a city I've never even been to, I'm not even certain I'd love. But suddenly it felt like a place I wanted to be, in some colonial bungalow, with bougainvillea-draped walls. Toronto seemed like a brittle, wizened place compared to this lush image I had in my head. I was sure Beau would be happier somewhere like L.A. I was suddenly grief struck at the idea he'd never see salt water.
On Friday, the sun came out and all of this dissipated. More than any other place I've lived, Toronto's beauty is dictated by the sun. In a warm cast, those wrinkles become laughter lines. The dullness of certain streets changes to a quiet neighbourly solitude. On Friday too, I sat down and wrote a first chapter of what I hope will be the book I've been thinking about writing for a long time now.
Today, Beau is getting his hair done. I might get a manicure while he's getting his 'do. I'll spring-clean my apartment. I'll do a little work with the always misguided idea that it will somehow get me ahead this week. I'll bring home flowers. It will be an easy and beautiful day. I hope yours is too.
Products: Reynah Pant from Club Monaco | Cancer necklace form Brooke Gregson | The Row tee form Net-a-Porter | Summerweight cardigan from J.Crew | Golden Goose Sneakers from SSense | Sel Marin from James Heeley | James bag from A.P.C.