Labor of love

Happy New Year.

I hope you all enjoyed a very restful Labor Day Weekend, and I’d like to be the first to wish you a happy fall, because that’s what it is now.

The air has felt especially autumnal as of late—cool mornings all last week into this present one, sweatshirts over my pilates clothes and long sleeve buttondowns at a Connecticut beach. I headed home on Saturday morning to spend a few days with my family and some friends that tagged along, but remained in the city on Thursday and Friday, enjoying an empty Trader Joe’s and guiltless movie binging.

Today on the Metro North back from Connecticut, my friend Eliza said it felt like January 1st. Eliza could say the sky was red and I would agree with her, but this sentiment rang particularly true. The fall is like a fresh start, I’ve always felt this way and I think I always will. It’s definitely because of the school schedule I followed for 15 years, a new year beginning around this time, and I still haven’t shaken it. Summer feels like a grand finale of the year, a time to celebrate and have fun, even if you’re chained to a desk for 70% of it. We make the most of what we can, longing for it through hard days where it’s 10 degrees or pouring rain every day for the entire month. Summer always feels earned, and now it’s time to work towards the next.

Something that made this especially true was returning to my apartment today to a delivery from Crate & Barrel containing my new glassware. The freshest of starts. I’ve had mason jars longer than I’d like to admit, and they were starting to make me feel like I was living in 2016. I also only have four wine glasses and I don’t know if they are for red or white wine. Buying glassware is very adult, and my timing was fantastic considering the abundance of Labor Day sales happening. I got twelve (why so many, I’m not sure) of these large ringed drinking glasses for coffee and water and whatever, and then these low Spanish wine glasses I’ve been eyeing for a while.

I also got my first gel pedicure this weekend. They just banned gel nail polish in Europe, so the Gwyneth in me makes me think I should quit while I’m ahead, but I’m really liking it so far. Rocket Money says I’ve spent almost $500 at my nail salon this year, which when you break it down is almost exactly once a month, but I could probably use a fraction of that back, which I’m hoping the gel pedicures offset. Stay tuned on how it holds up, I justified it by realizing how many open-toed shoes I wear with chipped nails.

Cleo Camp, the creator of my favorite shirt, released a dress version of said top on Wednesday. I don’t think my fingers have ever moved so fast. It shipped nearly immediately and I got my hands on it today—needless to say it’s an instant staple in my wardrobe. The fabric is thick in the best way, so flattering, and falls at the perfect length on me. I love how I can also wear this front or back depending on if I want something high or low neck. I wear a size 1, and I’m a small or a 4 in traditional dress sizes.

Thanks to my mother, I also got a really adorable dress from Favorite Daughter that makes me feel like Andie Anderson, and it’s currently 25% off! Butter yellow is a fall color, people.

Speaking of butter yellow, I got back the pottery I made last month for my mom’s impending birthday. I made a serving bowl, cup, and saucer set for her to host with. I’m thrilled with how they turned out, and want to give them yet another platform to receive praise on. I have another studio session this weekend and can’t wait to get back at it.

That’s all the shopping I’ve done—swear! Besides looking at engagement rings online as a single 25-year-old, only because the queen of my life, Taylor Swift, announced her engagement last week. I would be absolutely remiss if I didn’t talk about this, but I’ll keep it short. I’m just so happy for her and the ring is beautiful. I can’t stop listening to all of the old songs I grew up on where she talks about longing for this type of love. It’s just so amazing. Any hater behavior is loser behavior—FYI!

The news just came across my desk that Chloe Malle is the new Editor of American Vogue. I’m so happy it wasn’t any of the names we’ve been hearing since Anna announced her semi-departure. I don’t know much about her, but I like what I’m seeing from very quick research. Page Six cited Puck’s Lauren Sherman when breaking the news, a sentence which is the epitome of our current media landscape—someone behind a paywall being used to break mainstream news. I can’t afford a Puck subscription, but I love Sherman’s Fashion People podcast when I’m able to stomach hearing about the sausage being made after I leave my own sausage factory.

Back to Malle—after finishing the Condé book last week, this news feels like perfect, almost simulation-esque timing. She is a nepo baby after all, daughter of actress Candice Bergen and director Louis Malle, but the job has historically been one for the daughters of famous people (Anna Wintour, Diana Vreeland’s mom was a Gilded Age socialite). Dare I say that nepo babies are the only people who have access to the type of lifestyle they’re selling and overseeing. The overlord of chic needs to be someone who has heard the word “Chanel” since birth. Chloe Malle was also the writer of Lauren Sanchez’s pre-wedding Vogue profile, so perhaps this appointment was right under our noses the entire time. She went to Brown, worked for the New York Observer before starting at Vogue in 2011, and has been there for the last 14 years. Excited to see what she does with something that is widely regarded as a tired, boring, and dying brand, especially since she’s under 40. I love watching people’s Instagram follower count tick higher and higher when this happens, same with Taylor Swift’s ring designer, whose has doubled since I last checked.

In the vein of culture, I’ve been very bored with television besides the Amanda Knox show on Hulu, so I decided to check a few things off of my Letterboxd watchlist. Thursday, I ordered Lovely Day pad thai and ginger chicken before turning on Drive (2011) starring Ryan Gosling. Drive earned 3.5 stars from me—I really liked it, but what really blew me away was the score. This apparently is very well known and I sound like a straight guy who is really into movies by saying that. They don’t make movies like they did from 2010-2020 anymore. I listened to the soundtrack while running errands on Friday, and read about it on Reddit, as I do every movie these days.

Friday, I took the day off, but opted to skip the commuter rush into Connecticut and leave a day later. I watched the Jussie Smollett documentary on Netflix. Incredible watch. The whole thing is so crazy and I forgot just how big it was. Scandals like that are so odd—Jussie Smollett, balloon boy, Armie Hammer, Ellen actually being evil, the Gwyneth Paltrow Skiing Trial—we grasp onto such interesting things and completely glaze over others. Alas…

In an effort to have a true me day, I went home after running errands and watched Spring Breakers (2012), followed by Girl, Interrupted (2000), two more movies on my watchlist. I liked Girl, Interrupted more but I gave them both 3’s. All they do in Spring Breakers is laugh and yell SPRING BREAK FOREVERRRRR, but I understand that’s the point, and the movie is more about feeling than hearing or being told something. I am so beyond thankful I went to art school and didn’t have to engage in spring-breaker activity. When we went to Miami my senior year, we were basically asleep by midnight every night. Girl, Interrupted made me really sad and I probably should’ve watched those in reverse order to not end on such a bummer, but beautiful nonetheless.

Lastly, on Sunday night in Connecticut with my best friends from college and my sister, I watched Footloose (2011). I, of course, have seen Footloose (both) before and saw this one in the theater when it came out. We all got a mutual itch to watch and had to scratch. My friend Seth had never seen it, which was all we needed to decide. The actor who plays Ren McCormick is the definition of a one-hit-wonder. He was truly never to be seen again (please correct me if I’m wrong). Julianne Hough, portraying a 17-year-old at 23, dating a scary racecar driver who’s an adult, had the performance of a lifetime. She also looked incredible. That hair? Don’t get me started. The movie is much more violent and adult than I remember. We were truly on the edge of our seats.

The 27th season of Law & Order: S.V.U. comes out in September. Thank the lord. It better be longer than 13 episodes like last season. I fear every day for the announcement that Mariska is going to retire. As former ABC news correspondent, Princess, and Kennedy Family member Carole Radziwill once said, many good summers left.