Bullet train
Coming to you live from the Amtrak Acela.
I decided to continue regular posts throughout the gift guides because I have a lot to say. You’re welcome!
On the first day of November, it was 77 degrees and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Do we care? Or are we just pretending like this isn’t happening. I guess there’s only so much our beautiful little brains can handle. It’s going to be 100 degrees when our children trick-or-treat, which will suck for us. Melted candy, sweaty costumes—ew. I remember Halloween’s with snow on the ground and layering long sleeves underneath my princess dress.
I write this from the Amtrak Acela, which I am taking from Boston where my sister studies back to Penn Station. I visited her for the weekend, and we ate authentic Boston-Italian food with potential mob ties. Another highlight of the weekend was being able to sleep in a hotel bed. My mom and I watched about half of Martha on Netflix, and I’m excited to finish it. I was obsessed with a lot of parts of it, like Martha claiming she invented Westport, Connecticut, Martha single-handedly making K-Mart cool, and Martha ripping her ex-husband to shreds.
I had a few little luxuries this weekend. Besides sleeping in a Marriott hotel bed, the Acela is very fancy and high-class. I had to request to change seats because I had some sour neighbors and was facing backwards, but I’m thoroughly enjoying every moment now. When traveling via train, I feel like I’m living in 1960 while simultaneously feeling like I’m in Europe or something. This excludes the Metro North New Haven line, but I would include the Beacon line because the train I rode was probably from right around then. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it, I suppose.
The best train I’ve ever been on was the Eurostar from Paris to London. Every train should serve free wine and baguettes. I just ate a protein bar I brought myself. Not as classy.
I don’t know what’s so elegant to me about a train, but I looked at this journey I was about to embark on as a luxurious escape. I had around three uninterrupted hours to write and read, I brought a thoughtfully curated assortment of snacks including the aforementioned protein bar, and I was making it back to New York City in an obscenely fast amount of time. This ticket was a pretty penny so I won’t hype up the experience too hard, because it definitely should be great. For the same price I probably could’ve gone to like, Los Angeles or Miami, but in a much less comfortable airline seat. I implore the airline conglomerates to take a ride on the Acela for inspiration. But skip the cafe-style four seaters.
This is not a transit newsletter, so I will stop the train talk here. Just know, I could go on about how this is a premier form of moving. I’ve been suffering from some slight bouts of claustrophobia recently—feeling like my heart is going to beat out of my chest if the subway stops for more than 90 seconds and the idea of airplanes giving me the cold sweats—and this feels like a great solution. Traveling across the great frontier the way the pioneers intended. One of my bucket list items is to take the Grand Orient Express, where the train ride to and from my destination will be better than anything waiting on either end, where I can really live out my Wes Anderson fantasy. I implore you to look at their website if you’re unfamiliar.
I love cities with some American history. Boston is great for that. I did not indulge in any historical activities, but our mob wives dinner was on the same block as Paul Revere’s house. I just felt the history in my bones. I wasn’t even mad that I stubbed my Tabi toes multiple times on the cobblestone streets because I thought it was really cool that they were over 300 years old.
Boston is also expanding their retail business. On Newbury Street, we passed everything from Cos to Giorgio Armani, one of our friends telling us about the line that the new Princess Polly has been drawing in since it’s opening this week.
Shopping in other cities is kind of funny. It’s like, why? I live within 15 minutes of every store I could possibly think of, including four separate Reformation’s. I look at it almost like conducting a study, what are they selling at the Saks in Boston versus the Saks in New York? Who’s in here? I spent time meandering around the ready-to-wear section, pretending like I could afford the clothes at The Row. No one helped me, and I felt very Pretty Woman. What if I could, in fact, afford the windbreaker that could be mistaken for L.L. Bean? You wouldn’t be getting my commission, that’s for sure.
I did find this wonderful Isabel Marant jacket that one of you who has a lot of money should buy. It’s incredible. This is swiftly becoming an Isabel Marant fan page and I’m not mad about it. Here, I’ll even link it for you. It’ll only be a cool $2,000 after tax.
I really used to hate department stores, but I’ve fallen back in love with them. This is pretty bad timing, considering they’re all going under. It seems odd to have made the switch from preferring to shop online to in-person, especially since brands have never thought about their websites more than the present and are optimizing that experience every day for the shopper. I think I would break out into hives if a Saturday went by and I didn’t stop into one shop. The idea of shopping at a department store is wonderfully nostalgic for me, with memories of back to school shopping, the Nordstrom shoe department, and special events with my mom for her being a VIP shopper.
Alas, I left Boston without buying anything other than $5 wine from Trader Joe’s. I desperately wish that Trader Joe’s in New York City sold wine, it would make life a lot cheaper and easier. We’re missing out on so much we don’t even know about.
The most dangerous thing about trains is that they can get you trapped in your feels. Especially long ones. The Metro North is famous for doing that to me, mainly because I’m typically hungover and sensitive. I’m listening to a playlist that I curated for a gathering I’ll be hosting to test out the vibes, and The 1975’s About You just popped into the rotation. “I’ll miss you on the train, I’ll miss you in the morning” is really true. What is it about trains that causes this universal experience of feelings? You begin to miss things you haven’t thought about in years, like the place you used to get coffee at before your freshman year math class, or the Hinge date you went on two years ago (not me, just examples). I may have to take this off the party playlist because nobody wants to feel weird at a party. Thank god it’s not on a train.
I felt like I was getting away from New York just at the right time, for just the right length. October in the city was hard to want to get away from, the weather was perfect and I was abnormally busy. My apartment has started to feel like a tiny home and not just a place I’m keeping my things for the year. I appreciated things like foliage and sunsets a lot more than I usually do. For the sake of being honest and vulnerable on the internet like I said I wanted to be, my anxiety has been worse than before for the past, I’d say 90 days, so I’m trying to appreciate the little things more. No longer trying to fight it with taking deep breaths and working out like the internet tells you, but realizing this may be a problem and actually trying to figure my shit out. Something that made me feel better this week was Jemima Kirke saying that we couldn’t pay her to be 25 and that it ‘blows’ in one of her infamous Q&A’s. I take Jemima’s word like the word of Gwyneth—extremely near and dear to my heart with nothing but aura to back up its legitimacy.
This post was written pre-election, so I don’t want everyone to think I’m ignorant for not mentioning it when by the time this goes live, we will (maybe) know who the President is going to be, but I haven’t said anything. Recently, my favorite joke is to ask people in my very homogenous circle who they’re voting for. This is a bad joke in the workplace, or with people you don’t know very well, but funny to ask your friends you went to art school with or your sister. I’ve been avoiding big words recently because dumb people have been using them to sound smart when engaging in election discourse. If you’re saying things like “furthermore” on your Instagram Story encouraging the taking away of blatant human rights, and then go on to use the incorrect form of there/their/they’re in the same sentence, I’m going to block you! That’s about as confrontational I’m going to get on this blog. Hope you all enjoyed it.
I just got a Citizen’s alert that a man is making threats inside of my local Burger King, and I can basically smell Delancey Street from the New Haven Train Station. My little weekend escape has come to an end, just like this blog has. I’ll see you all on Monday, where I deliver cheap but amazing gifts to be giving. You won’t want to miss it.