Slow Notes 06
November 2025 in review—and a few recommendations and prompts for you.
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👋 Notes on November
“The girl in the picture is a stranger who imparted her memory to me,” writes Annie Ernaux in A Girl’s Story. The sentence greets me just as my phone flashes familiar scenes: Memories from one year ago; though I set the book down and go back even further—three years ago, five, eight. Photos of a much younger person smile at me from the other side of the screen: babyfaced in more colorful clothing with the same tired eyes. She’s no longer a girl, but not quite fully formed. She’s working hard, energized by her own exhaustion because she still believes any movement equates to forward trajectory.
When I turned thirty, my dad remarked that I was getting to the age where I was really starting to “accumulate history.” Fast forward a few years, and this sentiment has never felt more true. Today is my thirty-third birthday, though I’ve given more headspace to every age other than my own (especially on the page).
Twenty in a designer’s Lower East Side studio. Fifteen at dusk in Astor Place. Ten on a scorching hot day at the Dallas Zoo. Four by the water in the quaint town of Benicia. Sometimes you have to count down to look forward. I remember the past in acute detail, and it’s always been a personal and creative preoccupation. Yet for the last twelve months, it’s absorbed me in a way where life has felt smaller rather than slower. Confined rather than intentional. Instead of asking why that is, I’ve been trying to work out who that is—and why she’s taking up so much emotional real estate.
I don’t have all the answers for you here, and although Ernaux and I are looking back from vastly different vantage points, she aptly captures the tension of attempting to construct a narrative of who one used to be:
“I am overwhelmed by apathy, often a sign that I am about to abandon my writing in the face of difficulties I cannot clearly define. It has nothing to do with a shortage of memories. In fact, I must hold myself back to keep the images from linking up with each other—an image of a room with an image of a dress and a tube of red Email Diamant toothpaste (memory is a lunatic props-mistress), reducing me to the state of a spellbound viewer of a film utterly devoid of meaning.”
Still, if history accumulates and ultimately repeats itself, then the images that rise from the digital shadows remind me there is meaning—most often found just beyond the edges of the frame. Felt differently with distance and time. This year alone: genuine happiness walking along the canals of Amsterdam, crying for an entire day missing a feeling I can’t quite name, making strides in my novel draft, grappling with saying goodbye to a parent who moved across the world, finding solace in daily rituals close to home. Most of it photographed as evidence of a life lived by a woman who will inevitably become a stranger to herself again, no matter how tightly she holds on. As Ernaux also writes:
“I wonder if, perhaps, by gazing interminably at this photo, I did not so much wish to become the girl of 1959 again as to capture the very peculiar sensation of a present that is different from the one I am truly living, sitting at my desk by the window. A present anterior, a fragile, maybe pointless triumph, but one which seems to me an extension of our powers of thought and mastery of our lives.”
Part of me is sad that aging and growth can’t always look and feel the same. Yet therein lies the beauty of the former: recognizing certain moments are gifts we either keep or throw away, but the memories that inevitably follow are heirlooms—passed down, preserved, and revered through the actions we subsequently take in their honor.
For that reason, I resolve to ground myself in not only curiosity but courage. I want question marks to feel exciting again. I want to look back on this day X years from now and keep doing right by that person who lives in my memory—the one who sometimes visits me in photos or language, so I don’t lose myself in her ghost.
33 questions I’m keeping close this year—and beyond
What history do you think you’ll accumulate this year?
What feels true?
What is true?
Do you (want to) remember how to be bored?
What about the past is keeping you there?
Would you rather live in this memory or make new memories by living?
What are you making and making up?
How are you nurturing your creativity online and offline?
Are you creating content or creating contentment?
Why did you let their call go to voicemail?
Are you ready to get over yourself?
Do you believe
inyourself?Are you coming from a place of being reactive or proactive?
Are you ready to let this become a memory?
Is it worth making a statement or asking a question?
Why aren’t you writing—and can you forgive yourself for that?
Is timing everything—or just something?
How can you turn hope into action?
What’s more daunting: an empty page or an empty promise?
When does acceptance turn into an embrace?
What do you want to add to your definition of slowness?
Is there another way to think about this?
Where does your energy come from—and where will you put it?
Should you move forward or move on?
When do you feel most like yourself?
Can you (try to) imagine living anywhere else?
Do you believe in something bigger than yourself?
Do you believe in yourself?
What aren’t you saying out loud—and why?
Is there anything else you can replace sweet treats with?
What’s one question you hope people will ask you more often?
What’s one question you know you need to ask yourself more often?
Why?
November Essentials
The style staples and stories that were on rotation and my mind…
Style
babaà No 17 Jumper in Earth - Catbird Tiniest Heart Charm - EILEEN FISHER Classic Corduroy Jacket - EILEEN FISHER Felted Wool Jersey Lantern Pant in Regenerative Wool - EILEEN FISHER Textured Italian Leather Shopper Tote - EITHER/OR Vintage Pull-On Boot* - Jamie Haller Beatnik Boot - KREWE Lucy Sunglasses* - KREWE Zander Sunglasses* - Lauren Manoogian Double Face Long Coat - LORE Fragrance Discovery Set* - Rita Row Cedar Checkered Coat - Sézane Albane Loafers - Sézane Amy Loafers - Shaina Mote Lune Pants in Washed Black
Stories
How About Now by Kate Baer* - A Girl’s Story by Annie Ernaux - Happiness & Love by Zoe Dubno - It Girl: The Life and Legacy of Jane Birkin by Marisa Meltzer*
*KINDLY GIFTED THIS MONTH
November Details
A few things that especially slowed me down this month…
🍂 Enjoying peak fall foliage in Prospect Park
📕 Spotting—and signing—Slowing for the first time at the iconic Strand
🩶 Perusing “Gathering Wool: Louise Bourgeois” at Hauser & Wirth (on view through April 18, 2026)
☕ Indulging in Un Posto Italiano’s delicious coffee and hot chocolate (during a lovely afternoon with Sandy Sanchez)
November Prompts
A few creative prompts for you to consider as the month comes to a close…
🙃 Make a list of everything you said no to this month—and reflect on how it made you feel.
✉️ Write a card to yourself and revisit it on your birthday.
⭐ Reflect on how the concept of gratitude has changed for you over the years.
📔 Read a story, text, or poem that puts you in a festive spirit.
💭 What questions do you want to ask more of this holiday season?
November in Notes 👋
For Your Next Chapter
If you enjoyed this slow story, here are a few others that might slow your scroll…
Oh my gosh I love the 33 questions to ask yourself -- so often people do things they've learned, but I love the idea of thinking of ways to know yourself better, through these questions! So cool!
Oh Rachel, happiest 33rd birthday!!!!!! We’re so lucky that you share your internal and external worlds with us, and I can’t wait to see how layered and beautiful your history continues to be. ❣️