When I was little, following every birthday and Christmas my
mom would sit me down in front of a stack of stationary (her supply seemed
endless) and have me write the dreaded thank you note. As I got older, she wasn’t as demanding, but
she would continue to check in on me until all notes were written and
sent. I always dreaded it and struggled
to fill all the blank space on the inside of the card. I mean, how many ways can you say thank
you?*
Lately though, I’ve come to enjoy writing thank you
notes. I appreciate the opportunity to
let a friend know how much they mean to me.
I also have noticed a decrease of hand written thank you notes in our
continually evolving e-friendly culture. Really though, there has been a
decrease in mailed letters in general. I
rarely send actual mail to my family and friends. The only mail I typically send out is the
occasional bill (with a system so antiquated that it does not have online
payment as an option). In light of these
changes, there is something special about receiving actual mail from someone
you actually know. As I witness these
changes, there is a part of me that wants to hold onto this tradition of mail
and thank you notes. If only my younger
self could hear me now. She undoubtedly
would be shocked.
As note writing has become more appealing, I’ve also found
myself appreciating stationery. I’ve
even spent time at various stores coveting beautiful writing paper from Crane and Rifle (which are
ridiculously expensive, but oh so cute).
There is something so beautiful and classic about writing paper. It has a feeling of being from another time,
when each person had their own stationery embossed with their name or initials,
and would write letters beginning “Dearest Amelia”.
I laugh as I consider my penchant for note writing. I can’t help but think of the social trend of
New Domesticity,
which explores the re-emerging popularity of forgotten domestic practices. I heard about this idea via one of my
podcasts and was introduced to Emily Matchar, who coined the term and is
researching this trend and the impacts it has on family life, the work place,
and our communities. Matchar describes
New Domesticity as:
The
fascination with reviving “lost” domestic arts like canning, bread-baking,
knitting, chicken-raising, etc. Why are women of my generation, the daughters
of post-Betty Friedan feminists, embracing the domestic tasks that our mothers
and grandmothers so eagerly shrugged off? Why has the image of the blissfully
domestic supermom overtaken the Sex & the City-style single urban careerist
as the media’s feminine ideal? Where does this movement come from? What does it
mean for women? For families? For society?
It didn’t take long for me to think of various examples of New Domesticity. There’s the DIY blogs, Etsy and the Queen of
all New Domesticity: Pinterest. Surely,
this appreciation of note writing falls under this term.
Now, I am not bringing up New Domesticity as a shaming
point. I mainly am fascinated by this
trend, but also wonder for myself, how much of my penchant for thank you notes
is influenced by this movement. I tend
to pride myself on being an individual (being the good American that I am) and
dislike being boxed in. I like to think
that my ideas and likes come purely out of who I am. However, I know this is not true. There are definitely some interests that are
just plain Jen, but some are influenced by culture, and others are a mixture of
both. It is a messy line between trends
and my personality. Ugh!
In the meantime, here is a thank you note to you, dear
reader:
*As a side note, unacceptable thank you's, according to Mom, come in the form of thank you hands. Or as Mom might say, "No thank you" hands.
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| Sorry Michael, we don't accept your gratitude |
1 comment:
You're welcome! (I like thank you notes, too.)
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