Oregonian aesthetics.

[Banana Republic leather jacket + H&M dress + Kors boots + Gorjana pendant + a mood you don’t want to mess with.]

Like some of the best Pinots in Oregon—bright, not major sexbombs, dealing in grace, texture, and finesse—I tend to agree with a ‘less is more’ aesthetic. Especially when dressing myself. I have a great deal of respect for the world of couture, and the to-the-nines effort of the fashion editrices, but I treat getting dressed like reading a Rorschach inkblot: first instinct is your truth.

Another thing about Pinot Noir that I love is the character of the grapes. They can be finicky, and they require some serious attention—nurturing. Like a friendship, if you will. Toss them to the wayside enough times and they’re not going to produce. They’re also not going to forgive such unconscionable grievances. Yes—I like Pinot grapes. A grape with heart and soul.

Shoot, I could’ve gone for a big glass of Pinot Noir today.

But instead, I went with my Rorschachian instincts. After a gruesome day, I came home, set my laptop down on the counter, bent over it at the waist, and pressed my cheek on the cold stone. I stayed there like that for awhile as Rob poked around inside the fridge. Eyes closed, I listened to him make a drink, the tonic snapping and the cubes cracking and separating. I turned to the other cheek and stared at his glass inches from my nose.

Is that virgin?

Yep. Want one?

No, thanks. (pause) Are we out of rum?

I heard him open the freezer and a blast of cool hit my legs. The bottle landed on the counter with a weighty clink.

“You certainly earned it, after today,” he muttered. A rum and tonic—just like my dad orders. After the first sip, I felt lighter.

See, I do love wine, but there’s something about a simple liquor drink in a tumbler of ice that speaks to me: it doesn’t need you to pick out its flavors, it doesn’t require a special glass, and it certainly doesn’t want you to give it a rating. It’s there to serve you. Approachable. Reliable. Hemingway knew what I’m talking about.

Like a good friend—which is a pretty simple concept. You just be there. But when it doesn’t quite work that way, I’ve come across an equally simple solution: throw on your moodiest boots, pour a tall R&T, and turn this song up really loud.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmdPQp6Jcdk]

-Carey

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