Sussed Co. New York
How do you Halfternoon?
I have been told that it is the scorpio in me, but I often feel the need to retreat and restore by myself. That said, my top Halfternoons are not always solitary affairs. I came up with the idea of a ‘halfternoon’ after my son was born in 2006. I moved to New York when he was four months old, with a husband who always seemed to be away, so, for the most part it was just my son and me in New York City - a very different city to the one I’d known before becoming a mother. It was bliss, but exhausting. It was the hardest I’ve ever worked in my life (until his sister joined the gang) and I knew I needed to claim significant restorative time for me, but with a baby attached 24/7? How? There was no family nearby. I didn’t want a nanny. The Halfternoon was born to give significance to the time I had to myself by way of applying ritual and stature to whatever I chose to do. It was a rarity, but like birthday cake and bottles of champagne, I feel it would loose its charm if it became a common indulgence. It set the scene for what would become the Sussed Co. Modern Rituals.
Here are a couple of ways that I currently Halfternoon:
A cup of tea, a book, and my family on a day when the weather suggests it's better indoors. I love biographies of the sixties in London and Studio 54 era New York. I also love old Jilly Cooper books. Books about crystals. Books about interesting people… Books, bags and shoes are my main material attachments.
Any time outside in a blue sky. New York apartment living means being shut up for most of the year. When the sun comes out, the clouds clear and the parks bloom I always realize how much I love New York (which I always forget when its so cold it hurts).
Reiki self-care or crystal healing.
A boat trip to the Isle of Wight and visit to Reflections metaphysical shop.
A coffee and a beach.
A swim in an open air pool (preferably with nobody else in it).
A get together with my girlfriends.
A dream Halfternoon would be…
Hmmmm. It would involve sun on my face, and somebody giving me a Birkin bag (better to be shallow AND honest, hey?) and in I’d put a note pad (an orange Leuchturm1917) and one of those crystal infused water bottles that are just too expensive to justify and off I’d go for a walk. I might end up with a watermelon martini at the Rose Bar in the Gramercy Park Hotel, under a Warhol, in the best bashed up jeans ever and a massive 80’s Sloane Ranger taffeta puffed sleeve fuchsia top by Stella McCartney, and the Isabel Marant red suede poppy heels from years and years ago… Wallowing in scorpio reclusivity + recharging. Maybe at a crystal cave. Maybe at one of our rip roaring family BBQ’s. Maybe reading one of Jilly Cooper’s 1960’s novellas, probably Harriet, Imogen or Octavia, from Heygates paperback book exchange in Bognor Regis - just to be sure the cover had Jilly in disguise. JOY.
Sam Smith is the one who is collating these halfternoons in the name of shared inspiration.