From the Jitney, with love
Yours truly, Olivia.
Some of my best work is done in my notes app on the way home from something.
I suffer from motion sickness, so I can’t use a laptop or my iPad in transit to write or work. However, when inspiration strikes, I simply can’t turn it away. I’m currently stranded at Aldo’s Coffee Company in Greenport because my mom’s car died and they restarted it on the condition that they would drive it straight to Connecticut, and my Jitney back to the city isn’t until 2:50. It’s noon. I highly recommend Aldo’s if you’re in the area, they are very kind, and if they look at you like you‘re inventing an Arnold Palmer by asking for one, just tell them it’s okay.
Summer vacation is really awesome and you don’t realize that until you’re older. I regret all of the amazing trips I took for granted before I had my own rent and bills to pay and maximum PTO days to strategically build atop holidays and Summer Fridays. When you’re 13, you don’t realize that one day, you’ll have 10 days to use for the entire year, and the Fourth of July is on a Wednesday, so good luck figuring that one out. It almost feels like a riddle.
My mom, my sister, and I take a little drivable vacation every summer. Last year, we went to INNESS in Accord, New York, I wrote about how fantastic it was—
In the past we’ve gone to Montauk, East Hampton, Nantucket, places like that. The Hamptons feel very lame this year—sorry! I don’t want to wait an hour to get into the Surf Lodge only to be ambushed by Remi Bader and co., or find myself at a Hampton Water-themed party. I can’t drink Hampton Water after Halloween 2022. I also don’t want to make a reservation in June for a trip in August at a restaurant that also happens to be in Manhattan. I don’t want to pay $30 for a drink, and I don’t want to be surrounded by people who think they own the hotel pool. All that being said, I was desiring something a bit more low-key this year.
I’ve seen a lot of people opt for the North Fork instead of the southern coast of Long Island this summer, so I did some research and found the Sound View Hotel in Greenport. It was fabulous and exactly what we were looking for. I highly recommend if you’re looking for a weekend getaway, our room was as close to the water as you could be, the restaurant at the hotel, The Halyard, was fantastic, and the valet will even jump your car if you need them to!
Whenever I’ve gone out east, I’ve always driven or taken a ferry since I was going from Connecticut with my family. This year, I had to take the Jitney because I was going from work on Thursday night, and the amount of transfers the LIRR was telling me it would entail was making me break out into hives. I asked a lot of questions to my two Jitney-frequenting best friends, and made my way to 41st and Lexington with a bag of Whole Foods snacks, and bathroom anxiety.
The Jitney was fantastic. I was kind of obsessed with it, and know all of my jitters of my journey back today will be eased once I’m sat in that cushy seat, air conditioning blasting, headphones on, complimentary water in hand. I didn’t even notice the hardwood floors until I was leaving. I understand now why Sonja Morgan always hopped aboard the Jitney instead of driving herself to Ramona’s in Southhampton, or carpooling with Luann. (Editor’s note—the trip back was not as enjoyable but still great nonetheless.)
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I really like how Greenport is obviously much more laid back than its neighbors Sag Harbor or even Shelter Island. Of course, we saw some yachts and some Hermes slides, but that’s kind of unavoidable these days. Our hotel was the epitome of chill, the polar opposite of a place like Gurney’s, where I stayed a few years ago. You don’t have to elbow anyone for beach chairs, and Conor McGregor won’t be punching the air behind you (true story).
For some reason, my body woke me up every day at 6:30. I would try and fail to sleep some more before raiding the continental breakfast and heading to the pool or beach by 9. I used to hate the beach for reasons that are unclear to me. Maybe I just wanted to be edgy and a hater and a contrarian. Sounds like me at 18. My skin is so much clearer from two days spent in the water, wounds have healed, my eye bags have disappeared. I found myself being actually exhausted at the end of the day versus staring at my ceiling hoping a hatch meditation could bring me to rest.
I’ve grown obsessed with Rummikub, which I forced my family to play many times with me. If anyone wants to play in the city, just say the word and I’ll bring it to a bar or the park or your house or you can come to mine. My obsession started when I went to RummiKlub’s first New York event, which I also highly recommend attending when they come back. It was tons of fun, at the Silver Lining Lounge in the LES, and Laura and Marnie do a really great job pairing the tables intentionally, whether it’s to date, make friends, or network. I bought the RummiKlub set from Revolve when it went live because all of the Amazon ones are so ugly, and we have to keep things chic around here.
Three days of playing Rummikub, sitting by the beach, listening to waves crashing from the actual planet and not an app on my phone, reading the Condé book Empire of the Elite by Michael Grynbaum, was really healing for me. I haven’t gotten much sun this summer besides the Fourth of July, and I was growing concerned about my vitamin D intake. The fact that Pier 25 blew me away last weekend was a sign that it was time to touch some grass. Greenport was the perfect place to do that.
I’d like to spend some time talking about what everyone is calling “the Condé book”. Over the years, I have interviewed many times at Condé Nast, hoping and dreaming for a chance to work there. My family friends and mentors who did work there in the past didn’t quite understand why I was wanting to so badly, but nonetheless helped me to the best of their ability. I do not work there now, and I’m a big believer in a quote a dear friend told me once—what’s meant for you won’t miss you—so I’m very at peace and content with my life now. Condé is seemingly a club everyone wants to be a part of, like One World Trade Center has golden gates in front of it that open for a select few. It’s interesting how the tides have turned within the last two years, key people from Vogue and GQ are quitting, there are union strikes and layoffs left and right, Sports Illustrated fired their full staff after being caught using AI-generated fake authors to write stories. The luster has worn off, and while I’m very happy for all of my friends who are employed there as it’s still an institution, it’s just not the same. If anything proves that, it’s Grynbaum’s book.
It’s crazy to hear that Condé used to pay for editor’s mortgages in the West Village, hotel rooms for weeks on end at the finest hotels around the world, permanent lunch booths at the Four Seasons, and that’s just scratching the surface. The lives of Graydon Carter, Anna Wintour, and Tina Brown were amongst the finest in the world, all so that they could practice what they preach. Condé would fire people they felt didn’t suit the company’s needs anymore, but still pay their salaries until the very end, sometimes well into their nineties. One former editor had a $350,000 salary for nearly thirty years after he worked for the company, amassing over $10 million from Condé without ever stepping back into the building. Someone should make a movie about this, Citizen Kane style.
Speaking of movies, I’m wrestling with the idea of going to see Weapons tonight when I get back to the city, but that feels like a bit much for me. (Editor’s note—it was a bit much. I ordered Soothr and watched The Yogurt Shop Murders on HBO.) I can’t stand not being in on the discourse. I watched Sinners last weekend and was very confused about what you all loved about it. I understand I’m in the minority of feeling that way, and I’m sure watching it at home versus in the theatre didn’t help. The end was just a little too Twilight adjacent for me, and the fight scene was just impossible to believe that Michael B. Jordan and a band of about three women, a teenager, and an old man could defeat dozens of vampires. I didn’t even want to believe the whimsy of it.
I’ve been very good about not shopping, considering it’s become a necessity rather than a best practice. In Greenport, I got the crochet poncho pictured below, a pocket knife with my name on it, and a surfer rubber ducky. I can’t help but be a sucker for a souvenir.
My outfits recently have been pretty lackluster, but there’s always this week. It’s just too damn hot for me to dress well, or with a care in the world. This weekend, I wore head-to-toe Cou Cou Intimates, down to the underwear—The Three Pack of thongs are my favorite, along with the Petite Bras, the Cotton Pointelle Shorts, and the Iris Tank. The second night, I wore an Urban Outfitters dress I’ve had forever. I wore the same thrifted buttondown to the beach and the pool two days in a row. I just couldn’t really be bothered to think that much about packing, but I think I looked pretty cute anyway.
It’s so hard for me to believe summer is coming to a close. This year has gone by in a flash, soon it’ll be Thanksgiving and we’ll think, how did we get here? Perhaps by Jitney.