Valentine's Day: It's my favorite holiday.
People find it ridiculous if you admit to having even the slightest emotion above nausea for February 14. "Crass commercialism," they sniff, chased with the knee-jerk reaction: A cheap Hallmark holiday. As if that's a real epiphany.
They wrinkle their noses, sailing by the Duane Reade aisle packed with pink cellophane, reflective Mylar balloons, and $7.99 plush gorillas that hold red hearts in their paws and say dopey shit like, "I'm Wild About You."
The conceit is a simple one: It's easy to harp on Valentine's Day because it's cutesy, and prescribed romance is unsexy, but I'd argue that it's quite valiant. The one time where you might be brave enough to attempt an expression of... what, adoration? Love, even? Recall those elementary school days when distributing palm-sized cards and candy grams took up an entire afternoon (the latter, packaged in plastic baggies and containing things like cinnamon bears and Palmer pink-foiled double crisp chocolates, was a princely 35 cents when I was eight).
You'd leave the classroom feeling accomplished, red marker ink on your thumbs and glitter on your trousers. Cards for friends and family, sure, but you knew what you were doing—wistful and intent on creating that one perfect, construction-paper heart for your freckle-faced crush. The ribbon and lace had to be just right; the message just coy enough. A certain pluck would compel you to deliver said card at recess, Kevin Arnold to Winnie Cooper style.
Your heart distilled into that valentine.
If you have an anachronistic sense of romance, you might still dig those hand-made cards. In fact, the mass production we see now (the holiday is the most popular time for distributors like Hallmark and American Greetings, only second to Christmas), was created in the 1900s for convenience, as printing technology bucked up and people found it easier to express sentiment when sap was discouraged by society. If everything old is new again, let's bring 'em back.
To wit: I'm smitten with the holiday, regardless if I receive "man roses," or have a dinner date, or need an excuse to purchase that sheer, mesh bra begging for its own glass case. I love it, because you remember how it felt to have your heart thump out of your chest, and how to genuinely want an answer to the age-old question: "Will you be my Valentine?"
(The excuse to wear pink and red isn't so bad, either.)
Regardless of agenda, you're gonna look smokin'. Above, OC's Michelle Salem tries on three completely different outfits for Saturday, February 14. Bonus: Shop our Valentine's Day promo and take 20% off select jewelry styles.![]()
1. FOR THE GIRL'S GIRL (she might be with her gals, at a Glossier mask
People find it ridiculous if you admit to having even the slightest emotion above nausea for February 14. "Crass commercialism," they sniff, chased with the knee-jerk reaction: A cheap Hallmark holiday. As if that's a real epiphany.
They wrinkle their noses, sailing by the Duane Reade aisle packed with pink cellophane, reflective Mylar balloons, and $7.99 plush gorillas that hold red hearts in their paws and say dopey shit like, "I'm Wild About You."
The conceit is a simple one: It's easy to harp on Valentine's Day because it's cutesy, and prescribed romance is unsexy, but I'd argue that it's quite valiant. The one time where you might be brave enough to attempt an expression of... what, adoration? Love, even? Recall those elementary school days when distributing palm-sized cards and candy grams took up an entire afternoon (the latter, packaged in plastic baggies and containing things like cinnamon bears and Palmer pink-foiled double crisp chocolates, was a princely 35 cents when I was eight).
You'd leave the classroom feeling accomplished, red marker ink on your thumbs and glitter on your trousers. Cards for friends and family, sure, but you knew what you were doing—wistful and intent on creating that one perfect, construction-paper heart for your freckle-faced crush. The ribbon and lace had to be just right; the message just coy enough. A certain pluck would compel you to deliver said card at recess, Kevin Arnold to Winnie Cooper style.
Your heart distilled into that valentine.
If you have an anachronistic sense of romance, you might still dig those hand-made cards. In fact, the mass production we see now (the holiday is the most popular time for distributors like Hallmark and American Greetings, only second to Christmas), was created in the 1900s for convenience, as printing technology bucked up and people found it easier to express sentiment when sap was discouraged by society. If everything old is new again, let's bring 'em back.
To wit: I'm smitten with the holiday, regardless if I receive "man roses," or have a dinner date, or need an excuse to purchase that sheer, mesh bra begging for its own glass case. I love it, because you remember how it felt to have your heart thump out of your chest, and how to genuinely want an answer to the age-old question: "Will you be my Valentine?"
(The excuse to wear pink and red isn't so bad, either.)
Regardless of agenda, you're gonna look smokin'. Above, OC's Michelle Salem tries on three completely different outfits for Saturday, February 14. Bonus: Shop our Valentine's Day promo and take 20% off select jewelry styles.
1. FOR THE GIRL'S GIRL (she might be with her gals, at a Glossier mask