Notes On: How to Romanticise March

Florals !! For Spring !!! GROUNDBREAKING!!!

Mar 01, 2025

"In March the earth remembers its own name. Everywhere the plates of snow are cracking. The rivers begin to sing." – Mary Oliver

"You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming" – Pablo Neruda

If I had to describe March in a singular image, it’d be: daffodils swaying on motorway verges. Because that’s what March is: a slant of golden light amidst an endless winter. A sprout of hope in the most unlikely of places. A promise, in the shape of a calendar, that these dark days will soon be over.

March is for pastels. It’s for light purples and pinks and sunrise yellows. It’s for huge, white, Copenhagen scrunchies and glazed donut nails and green juices spiked with passionfruit. It’s for hydration, in every sense: hydrating face masks, iced water, lip gloss applied every single hour. It’s for tulips, and blossom drifting like confetti, and iced cupcakes on market stalls. It’s for bubble baths and gua sha followed by far too many brambles in a candlelit bar.

March is for sending postcards, for the song ‘Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes)’. For hot crossed buns with melting butter, for long walks in bluebell woods and celebrating your favourite women and dressing like Princess Diana and saying those precious words: ‘shall we sit outside?’ Here’s how to make the most of it.

Notes On: Spicing Up March

First of all, I hope you’ve bought yourself a present for getting through February (if you haven’t, do it now, you deserve it). My zine is almost sold out, but you can get your copy here.*
In my opinion, March needs a re-brand. It should be at this point in the year - with longer days and shoots peeping up to find the sun - that we take an audit of our lives. Not in a ‘I-must-change-everything-about-myself-and-my-life’ way that we’re encouraged (by capitalism) to do in January. No, this audit - or spring refresh - should come with no expectation of ‘resolutions.’ Think of it as a check in, touching base with yourself.
First, start with a spring clean. Try, if you can, to dedicate a whole day (or even weekend) to sweeping out the cobwebs, this month. Bag up the clothes you don’t wear for donation. Hoover every single corner of your home (I mean it. Actually move that furniture).
Next: sit down with a notepad (or the notes app) and think about the life you’re living, right now.
Is there anything you want to change? Are you happy in your job? Do you want to see more of your friends? Take some time working out how to make your dream life into your reality - to the accompaniment of your favourite playlist, and the help of your Pinterest board.
Make some goals - things that add to your life, not things that take away/punish you (aka not ‘lose weight’ but ‘run 5k’). And then, when the goals are set - this bit’s really important - take to your bed.
Peel on a face mask, watch Gossip Girl. Allow yourself to rest, for your mind to fizz with all the excitement of your new plans. Give yourself a chance to rest, to hibernate, because you’re probably exhausted right now. Life isn’t about constantly improving yourself. These goals are for the long-term. You don’t have to start them right now.
Take some time this month to celebrate the women you love. On the 8th March, it’s international women’s day. And a few weeks later, it’s Mother’s Day. Write letters, or postcards. Send flowers, bake cookies or a cake. And if you don’t have a mother to celebrate, I’m so sorry. Make sure you look after yourself, on that Sunday. Buy yourself flowers, and chocolates, and reach out to your closest friend. You are not alone.
At some point this month, take a day trip. Pack a bag and hop on a train and find yourself in a seaside town with salt drifting on the air and ice cream shops lining cobbled streets. Come home feeling very tired and very happy.

Get obsessed with something new, this month. Try a new smoothie recipe, or a new workout class. Knit a scarf, or a blanket. Buy a canvas from your local art shop, pair it with a bottle of rosé and go wild. Hang your creation in the living room. It’ll remind you of your own creativity, your resourcefulness, that it takes very little to make you feel joy.

Your March Soundtrack:

A playlist for about the promise of March, all drifting blossom and blooming emotion and singing rivers à la Mary Oliver.

A March Reading List (according to the florals !!! for spring !!!! playlist):

‘SUPERBLOOM’: Books that flourish as you read them

The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett
The Goldfinch – Donna Tartt
The Idiot – Elif Batuman

‘Electric Love’: Books about the kind of love that is, well, electric

Writers & Lovers – Lily King
Open Water – Caleb Azumah Nelson

‘The Age of Worry’: Books about finding beauty in the cracks

Devotions – Mary Oliver
Bluets – Maggie Nelson
The Opposite of Loneliness – Marina Keegan
When Breath Becomes Air – Paul Kalanithi

Some March Recipes:

One Final Note:

If you’re struggling - with illness, or grief, or anxiety about what the hell is going on in the world right now, or seasonal depression - just know that life is full of moments that feel like shadows. That there is no joy, no dancing in rain showers or kitchens, without the aching pulse of sadness, fear, the longing to rewind time, even for a moment. Our society tells us - tries to sell us - the idea of constant happiness. If you only buy this peptide lip treatment, these greens, this gym membership, you’ll be happy. But, dear reader, this is a lie. If I’ve learnt anything from reading, reading, reading, it’s that: constant happiness does not exist.

Happiness is a transient state: it’s the slant of sunlight through clouds, that feeling of elation as you head into the chorus at the end of the bridge. It’s a fleeting return to the pure emotions of childhood: excitement, joy, wonder. But it always - always - fades. It exists only in relation to the emotions which capitalism tries to weaponise: loneliness, fear, deep sadness. Which is all to say: you cannot feel happiness without sadness, and although that does not take it away, it might make it easier to deal with. All we can hope for, in this world, is lilting contentment.

I was in the pub last night when the BBC news alerts buzzed in my pocket. The ones about Zelensky, and Trump, and Vance. And this is the world in which we live: a world in which the wrong people have power. A world in which we continue to re-post quotes to our Instagram stories and send voice notes about what we’d do if we won the lottery and sip fizzing lime gin and tonics all whilst devastating things are happening in the world around us. Sometimes, even lilting contentment seems a bit too much to ask.

But I really hope, this month, you can find it, somewhere. In the splashes of daffodils that you buy for yourself, in slanting sunlight across your morning coffees, in moments of drunken elation with friends and the headache that comes the next day, curled under a duvet sipping Ribena and thinking to yourself that you’ll never drink again. In meandering riverside walks, in listening to Chet Baker on vinyl and in receiving a handwritten note from your best friend, I hope you find the slow pulse of contentment.

Because that’s what March is, isn’t it? A seed of hope sprouting beneath wet soil. A whispered reminder: better days are coming.

*Footnote: It’s called ‘Notes On: Love in the Time of Heartache’ and it’s a love letter from us (artists, thinkers, hopeless romantics), to you (whoever you may be).

P. S.

This newsletter is coming out today because I wanted it to be on the 1st March! Normal scheduling will resume next week.