Postmarked from Sun Valley, Idaho, sometime in peak summer…

To all the clothes I left behind in New York,

When I packed up and fled the city, I had no idea what I’d be leaving behind or for how long. Months into my very, very extended stay with my parents — picking through drawers of old high school T-shirts and the truly random assortment of items I managed to throw in my suitcase — I realize how much I miss you all, and the places we were meant to go together.

First and foremost, to the never-worn bell-shaped white lace mini dress from Zara, with the balloon sleeves and pretty tie-neck details. I bought you on March 10th. (You’re still hanging triumphantly on the back of my bedroom door, I think... ) Back then I could see it clear as day — you, paired with my favorite croc-embossed Birkenstocks and my tiny white Clare V bag. Off to wander around Nolita on a late spring day before getting a text from a friend and deciding to meet up for a beer at Wogies where we know we can always get a table outside. A little dressy for a dive bar, sure, but it all works out because we end up on a friend’s rooftop later, my pretty lace dress blowing in the breeze, my legs so happy to be out and about for the first of many wonderful, spontaneous weekends like this one.

And what about you, white linen mini dress from Reformation? You were on sale, and to be honest, I can’t believe I didn’t talk myself out of buying you! But foolishly, I wagered I’d be home by now, in the heat of mid-summer, freshly emerged from my respite in Idaho with a deep tan and a flirty new outlook. I pressed “place order” and smiled to myself, imagining a date night in late July, when it’s too hot to wear anything but linen. With a fresh shoulder-skimming chop and some orange-y red lipstick, we’d stroll to the West Village to meet some dude with a beard from Bumble. I’d pop up onto a bar stool, cross my legs in his direction and say, “Oh really? Thanks, I guess,” when he comments that it's cool that I drink Negronis.

Will you get this letter, Levi’s 501 cut-offs? I left you folded in the dresser drawer when I packed because shorts were unthinkable to me at the time. Now I’m not so sure, and I wish you were here. We could walk the dog after dinner, with my favorite hoodie from college and my Adidas slides. Wouldn’t that be fun?

Bright red braided strap flat sandals! Are you ladies okay?

And what about those raw hem white jeans I bought in January?! You guys were really supposed to be having your moment right now…I wish you were here. On cool nights I picture us together by a campfire, with an oversized cashmere sweater and a bandana (that doubles as a mask).

It feels like I left my whole personality in New York — on velvet hangers, tucked into shoe cubbies, and dangling precariously from over-burdened hooks. I’m doing my best to make up the difference with impulse purchases of trendy straight-leg jeans and wide-brim hats. I hope you’ll all get along when we’re together again. Don’t forsake me, closet!

With all my love,
Taylor

P.S. I haven’t forgotten about you, tie-dye bucket hat and rainbow-striped shirtdress I ordered from J. Crew. I’m so sorry. I never meant to ship you to my shuttered office building in downtown Manhattan. I don’t know when I’ll be back there to retrieve you. But just know, I’m dreaming of you both. I know you both want to go to the beach, getting perfectly rumpled in my big tote bag that still has sand at the bottom from Labor Day weekend at the Jersey Shore. I wanted that too...