Welcoming Spring
Little rituals to prepare for the season of renewal and growth.
We made it.
“That is one good thing about this world...there are always sure to be more springs.” —L.M. Montgomery
After the long, frigid, dreary slog that was this winter, spring has finally arrived. As it so often does, spring arrives slowly. It begins with a subtle lift, an almost imperceptible shift in the air. The wind feels less biting, the light softens, and windows stay open that little bit longer.
Eventually the changes begin to feel more tangible: the evenings stretch on and mornings feel a little bit easier when soundtracked by chirping birds and a crack of light through the curtains. The sun stretches deeper into our north-facing apartment, first a little bit above my desk in the morning, and by April, the brick wall opposite becomes illuminated by evening sun. The daffodils and tulips sprout up from the neighbourhood flower beds, and although not yet bloomed, there’s a subtle damp, earthy scent that seems to only exist in this transitory period of time.
I’ve always had a visceral reaction to the arrival of spring. There’s a period of unfurling — slowly shedding the layers and the grogginess that comes with months of hibernation — followed by a period of blossoming — a buzzing, almost restless sensation to pick things back up, create, think, do. The dull, grey light of winter is replaced with a palette that feels distinctly more saturated, and it literally feels like I’m seeing the world in technicolour.
To me, spring is a season of action, of creative reinvigoration, and of quiet goal setting. It’s a season for reconnecting with my femininity, my creativity, and the world around me.
In celebration of the first day of spring, today’s letter is a list of small preparations and everyday rituals for the new season, alongside some keepsake memories from years past.
Eating
Watching
A Tale of Springtime (1990): Desire, insecurity, and some absolutely beautiful gardens.
Emma (2020): Cotton candy tones and pastoral English countryside landscapes.
Sense and Sensibility (1995): More bucolic countryside scenes and one of my favourite Austen film adaptations.
The Secret Garden (1993): A tale of renewal and an atmospheric symphony for the eyes.
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964): A pastel palette and 1960’s rainwear will always get me excited.
Call Me By Your Name (2017): Coming of age and the soft, warm glow of film.
Marie Antoinette (2006): Saturated colours, frothy gowns, and the gardens of Versailles.
Listening
RAM — Paul & Linda McCartney: A euphoric album to go along with the way the season makes me feel.
Father of the Bride — Vampire Weekend: An album about rebirth that I can only describe as sunny.
Charm — Clairo: This album feels made for a lazy afternoon in a park.
Blossom Dearie — Blossom Dearie: Jazzy piano, soft vocals, and three songs with the word spring in the title. Need I say more?
Di Doo Dah — Jane Birkin: Spring is for yé-yé, I don’t make the rules. I’ll be walking around with this in my ears and trying to channel a sliver of Jane’s aura.
Bon Iver — Bon Iver: If Bon Iver’s debut is the equivalent of the stillness of winter, its 2011 follow-up is sonic spring.
Rubber Soul — The Beatles: Sparkling 1960’s pop music and one of my favourite records of theirs.
Days — Real Estate: Shimmering guitars and the sort of album I want to be listening to with the windows rolled down.
Wearing
White midi skirts
Red ballet flats
Floral-printed nightgowns
Marinières
Sailor collars
Ecru denim
Carel mary janes
Cotton cardigans
Lace and embroidered details
Vintage basket bags
Smelling
Ethereal Wave by Liis: Black & white tea, bergamot, blonde woods, cardamom, velvet musk. Bright, grounding, a study in opposites.
L’Eau Papier by Diptyque: Mimosa, sesame, blonde woods, musk. A clean, lightweight floral that smells like the first page of a new journal. The way cashmere smells in my head — delicate, soft, enveloping.
Alias by The Maker: Sandalwood, rice milk, freesia, orchid. Inspired by hidden identities but somehow familiar and comforting. Equal parts jazz bar and cozy cabin.
Highgrove Bouquet by Penhaligon’s: Lime blossom, mimosa, cedar. A spring picnic, a fizzy cocktail, an afternoon in the garden.
Little Flower by Régime des Fleurs: Turkish rose, pomelo, black tea, peony, honeysuckle, palo santo. Dewy, fresh, romantic.
Bergamote 22 by Le Labo: Bergamot, vetiver, orange blossom, musk, cedar, vanilla, amber. Juicy, mouthwatering citrus grounded by something deeper.
Jasmine Damask Rose by Flamingo Estate: Bergamot, jasmine, damask rose, pink peppercorn, white sandalwood. Inspired by the intoxicating scent of jasmine.
Figue 15 by Le Labo: Fig, blackcurrant, amber, musk. Fruity, warm, zesty.
Williams-Sonoma rosemary eucalyptus hand soap: Bergamot, eucalyptus, rosemary, vetiver, cedar leaf. Invigorating and uplifting. A seasonal ritual.
Doing
Resetting & refreshing
Spring calls for an energetic and spacial reset, which for me always means a little bit of spring cleaning. I’m definitely due a closet clear-out, and eventually will rotate my heavy wool knits into storage (also known as my parents’ house). There’s a deep spring clean on the horizon, which I’m sure will include lots of uplifting citrus-scented cleaning products, and I’ll also be swapping out my more wintry throw pillow covers for lighter tones. Refreshing in this way always helps me step into the season with renewed clarity.
Swapping out my bedding
I’m putting my heavy duvet back into storage and reuniting with my beloved cotton quilt from Pottery Barn. I’ll be pairing it with pretty floral sheets from Piglet in Bed, and accent pillowcases in shades of soft sage, salmon, and mushroom.
Visiting the farmers’ market
May 4 marks the first outdoor edition of my neighbourhood farmers’ market, and I couldn’t be more excited. With springtime comes a bounty of gorgeous produce — asparagus, rhubarb, radishes, beets, and the very start of strawberry season here in Ontario. I love nothing more than spending an evening talking to the vendors, and making a gorgeous meal from the fresh, local ingredients I’ve picked up.
Selecting a spring scent
Each season I like to treat myself to a new scent, either in the form of a perfume or a candle. Scent helps me to sensorially celebrate the time of year and really live fully in that season. Some notes I love for spring are mimosa, black tea, bergamot, and rose, always grounded by my year-round favourites vetiver, musk, and woods. My candle collection feels solid at the moment, but I would love to invest in a full-size bottle of one of the fragrances above — most of which I am currently rationing a sample or travel size.
Intentionally cultivate creativity
Reawaken those creative muscles after months of cold, dark, hibernation. Create for the sake of creating, visit a museum, walk around your favourite park, go to the movie theatre on a rainy day. Springtime is full of so much beauty and what better time to flex those creative muscles than during the season of renewal herself?
Pay a visit to your local photobooth
Something I like to do at least seasonally (but ideally monthly), is to document bits of my life via analogue photobooth. It’s so fun looking back at old strips to get a little taste of what life was like at that fleeting moment in time: what was I wearing, what mood was I in, how was I feeling?
That’s it for this latest seasonal letter. Thank you so much as always for reading, and see you in the next one.
Victoria x