This is a little wave hello since I won’t be posting much until the new year — I could, but the blogging world is dead. I have no interest in screaming into a void. I’d rather schedule posts for busier times, and I am doing that.
Other things I did this week:
I like to pretend my outfits are worthy of jazz standard lyrics. Let me have this one.
I also like to think if I saw this post on my feed, I wouldn’t bother to read anything written alongside it and would instead just look at the photos. I’m proud of them; there’s room for improvement, but I had a great deal of fun shooting with my best friend, and I think I look quite lovely considering… various things I shall not draw attention to. This is a cheap dress, and it has pockets (!), and the only makeup I’m wearing is drugstore lipstick. I carried my heels in a bag and they barely show up in any pictures.
In short(er): red is a lovely color, and Barcelona is an interesting place.
Picture by Lix Hewett. Vincci Bit Barcelona
I’m bringing good stories to you again. I’ve wanted to get back into the habit for a long time, but now I actively save links and write blurbs. I hope you find these interesting! Scroll to the end if you’d like to go straight to the visual recs.
First up: The Financial Diet put up an interview with Mallory Ortberg of The Toast that I found incredibly refreshing honest on both a personal and an industry level. Mallory talks about salaries, her short stint as a freelance writer, her Toast partner’s financial contributions/essential backing of the website, having multiple streams of income, making money from advertising and paying writers from the beginning. She’s smart and open and it’s just a great read and something I want to see more of. The creative field has gargantuan issues with fair compensation and disclosure; the more we talk about it, the more normal it will be.
Related: Mia has been sharing blog income and traffic reports since October of this year on XO Mia, and I love it because you get to see someone who’s just starting out and isn’t making five figures a month navigate monetization and blog growth. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate income reports from people who are established and making big money, but one of the reasons I’ve always been hesitant to share my own information is that I was — well, embarrassed. I talk a lot about living below the poverty line, and finances being a big factor in my anxiety, and I’ve taken big steps in overcoming the shame that often comes with it, but I still find it hard to admit, for instance, that a sale was a flop, or that nobody’s hired me in two months (someone broke the streak last week), or that I barely managed to do one sponsored post — whether due to not having the time/energy, putting it off, not doing the work of contacting people, or turning down opportunities that didn’t meet my standards. I always have an excuse on the tip of my tongue; call it promising child syndrome, “if I don’t study until the last minute I have an excuse if I do badly on the exam.”
Also related: Gaby Dunn wrote an article for Fusion about being too famous to work a normal job but too broke not to, mainly about youtube stars and how that doesn’t always translate into a steady income, and what a double-edged sword fame can be. I could write an entire post — and very likely will when I get my podcast going — about the myth of selling out and this hush-hush culture so many bloggers participate in that only serves to help people devalue and take advantage of us. Gaby’s article talks about the range of figures in brand deals because there’s no standard or communication; it tackles transparency and fan backlash, and it mentions the very fear of losing money you need if you bring up the issues in public.
And there’s this line that really hit me, “I’ve walked a red carpet with $80 in my bank account. Popular YouTube musician Meghan Tonjes said she performed on Vidcon’s MainStage this year to screaming, crying fans without knowing whether she’d be able to afford groceries.” I can’t fathom that kind of fame; I’m a small blogger and I’m lucky in that I find it easy to turn down non-paying “opportunities” because frankly, I don’t see the point in them. But I found it funny-sad to read, because when I lived in London, I was often invited to events that would have made me feel on top of the world — if I’d been able to afford the tube to take me to them.
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Also related: a rant about setting your own pricing in the context of media kits I went on on twitter a while back. People will lowball you, so asking for a budget? No good. You need to set a precedent.
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this NY Mag story about Tracey Norman, a black transgender model who became quite successful as a female model in the 70s until rumors spread that she wasn’t cis. It really serves to underline the progress that has happened over the past three decades in terms of acknowledging trans people and fighting against the stigma and the need to pass as cis and the deceit stereotype. I find it overly optimistic considering the violence and danger trans women, especially trans women of color, still face, and the endless ignorance around transgender issues — right there in the article in the way some of the models they spoke to talk about how they didn’t know Tracey “was a boy” — but I appreciate the positive outlook and the fact that it’s a supportive article on a big publication.
Here’s an article on the hate crime crisis. Trigger warning for descriptions of murder.
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Kristy Tillman started a newsletter a little while back celebrating creativity from black women. It’s called Tomorrow Looks Bright, it hits your inbox on Sundays and I really recommend it! Their latest newsletter may be my favorite; that School of Thought collection is utterly gorgeous, and the photography is to die for. The feminist authors design includes Lucille Clifton, too, so naturally I’m obsessed.
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From Men Explain Lolita to Me: “It is a fact universally acknowledged that a woman in possession of an opinion must be in want of a correction. Well, actually, no it isn’t, but who doesn’t love riffing on Jane Austen? The answer is: lots of people, because we’re all different and some of us haven’t even read Pride and Prejudice dozens of times, but the main point is that I’ve been performing interesting experiments in proffering my opinions and finding that some of the men out there respond on the grounds that my opinion is wrong, while theirs is right because they are convinced that their opinion is a fact, while mine is a delusion. Sometimes they also seem to think that they are in charge, of me as well of facts.” Also: “censorship is when the authorities repress a work of art, not when someone dislikes it.” Well worth a read.
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A few visuals:
A fashion blog: The Fashion Cuisine
A travel blog: Paris In Four Months (or several years)
An artist: Heather Day
A photographer: Marlena Pearl
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At the end of last month, I’d come up with a relatively straightforward plan to launch three things in November, as well as do a significantly better job of keeping up with another two areas of my business. I’m happy to tell you my blogging and client work have gone unusually smoothly, but the projects… not so much.
Everyone always shares what they did to make things work, sometimes what didn’t work during those launches, and how much work happened behind the scenes that you may have assumed did not. They usually talk about things that happened, after they happened. The fact that they got pushed back or weren’t ready when they were supposed to is a line in the larger scheme of things — just like I’m hoping this post will be a small note once I get my projects going.
But for now, I’m going to tell you about how this month, I didn’t.
Ah, Chelsea. Home to the loveliest things.
La Brasserie was London’s first all-day brasserie when it opened in 1972. I can’t speak to the iconic status its website professes, but I can tell you all about how delicious the food was, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Annemari and I took a quick tube to South Kensington Station and walked down Pelham Street to Brompton Road. I nearly missed the restaurant because I got stuck on the library sign beside it — a sign announcing something called The Library that is not in fact a library at all* — and Annemari had to point it out to me.
* excuse me while I’m baffled that the Google Maps link led me to a store I found out about this very morning via a post on Park & Cube. What.
After having lunch at La Brasserie, we took the four-minute walk to the National History Museum, because that’s what you do when you’re spending time with Annemari in Knightsbridge. The area is really chock full of things to see (and eat).
So anyway, back to the restaurant.
Like I mentioned in Six Days in London, the Victoria & Albert Museum was the first one Annemari and I visited in September, largely because it was still open when we finished our afternoon tea at Patisserie Valerie across the road. It seemed a lot bigger to me in 2007 than it did in September, though, and that would be because it has “reduced gallery openings after 18.00” on Friday (when it’s open until 10 PM). That explains that! Wow, an explanation for a V&A thing. Color me fucking astonished.
See, the thing about the V&A is that I seriously cannot make sense of it at all. I went to the website and everything just now to try and figure out what in the world the swirl reminiscent of a sea creature that’s installed on the ceiling represents, or where it came from, and I can’t even find that. I found out they have a Diwali installation, though! If you’re into that.
Despite my complete lack of comprehension skills when it comes to this museum, I quite enjoy it. It has a lot of artifacts and types of art, from entire pieces of architecture (like legit house façades) and furniture to ironwork to sculpture, photography and fashion. My favorite thing about this visit was getting to take photos of everyone sketching Rodin sculptures; I’ve decided I’m going to make a point of this whenever I go to art museums in the future (swap out Rodin for… actually between casts and collections, you may not have to). Remind me to take business cards with me next time.
But anyway, without further ado: here are some of the things (and people!) that caught my eye.
It didn’t rain when I was in London in September until the very last minute — it literally started as Annemari and I waited for the bus to Liverpool Street Station for the train to the airport. Meanwhile, two hours in Barcelona and we got a serious fucking storm falling on us.
Judging by the photos, you wouldn’t be able to tell how much it affected my head — I still got loads of them. The next day was much better for me. This one, however, has the sea going for it.
I didn’t grow up by the sea; I don’t have that kind of connection that so many pretentious assholes people claim to have to the ocean. I’ve never felt I couldn’t live far from the ocean because, hell, I’ve been doing exactly that for twenty-six years. Honestly, it’s just a lot of water, and humidity, and I can’t even swim.
And yet. As Annemari and I walked to the ocean, my mood went from ‘mildly stable’ to ‘giddy like a five-year-old;’ my energy grew and I started smiling and by the time we were overlooking the sea from a little ways away, I was ready to dance.
The closest Patisserie Valerie location to the hotel Annemari and I booked in Earl’s Court was in Knightsbridge, a twenty-minute walk away. Annemari and I took our time getting there; it was our first day in the Earl’s Court area of Kensington and Chelsea, and therefore recon time. But we got there.
The Patisserie Valerie in Knightsbridge is a stone’s throw away from some of the museums I’ve already blogged about, including the Natural History Museum. It’s a deep, narrow little shop decorated in the chain’s usual wooden and burgundy tones. We were seated at a comparatively large circular table near a corner, with plenty of space for ourselves, our bags, our plates, preserves, and the big afternoon tea three-tier stand that would be placed in the middle in no time.
The first time I met Annemari in person, I was 18 and she was 16 (a moment of ‘holy crap,’ please). I was spending three weeks in Oxford, and took a coach to London for the day to meet up with her. We found each other at the entrance to Kensington Gardens, and wandered down to Cromwell Road to visit the Natural History Museum.
By the time Annemari and I got to the Natural History Museum the Monday during our September trip, I was tired and wearing nine plasters on each foot, and I went off to sit on a bench after dramatically croaking, “Go on without me.”
(Okay, I did not say that, but I probably said something equally pathetic. Allow me the poetic license.)
I mention my pitiful state for two reasons: a) when Annemari and I first met, I still felt super awkward and tried to like, not be a disaster; not anymore; and b) this post is brief, a collection of photos I took as I trailed after Annemari throughout the dinosaur display and the mammal and reptile rooms. The mammals had considerably better lighting, though, so if you want snakes, you’re better off checking out my zoo post.
I’m not going to lie — when I say ‘capsule’ in the post title, I don’t really mean ‘clothes you can mix and match for maximum functionality’ this time (see previous capsules here and here). I’m thinking more about a receptacle in which you can live, like a cave where a bear hibernates, and the things you might want to have in it before holing up and not coming out until the sun does, like a bear when it hibernates.
These days I leave the house like, once or twice a week, usually the day after the wine runs out. I try to run all my errands at the same time, too; my town is pretty small so I might as well disrupt my routines as little as possible. I’m happy to tell you I’m no longer so unstable that going to the supermarket messes up my entire day, but I’m still lazy, and let’s be real, even if you go out every day, the best thing about winter is curling up on your bed or an armchair with a hot beverage, a book and your choice of cat furry pet, wrapped up in something warm and comfortable. Mmm, cozying up.
And so:
1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10
And just in case you forgot that a) I mentioned a book and b) I read, I come bearing book recs, too! Because I’ve looked forward to and tweeted about two fall releases far too much not to mention them here as well.
This fall, two of my favorite non-fiction writers released new material. First, it was the incomparable (shut up) Jenny Lawson, the Bloggess, who followed up Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, a book so hysterical I translated entire passages to my sister on the fly, with Furiously Happy. Furiously Happy is just as hilarious, but delves even deeper into Jenny’s experiences with depression and other disorders, including acute social anxiety, with passages as heartbreaking as they are, for me and many other people, massively relatable. Her flying fears are my flying fears! There are also (live) cats and (taxidermied) raccoons, and if you don’t think taxidermied animals can be fucking funny, you’re about to be converted.
The other new book I just started reading last night is Lafayette in the Somewhat United States by Sarah Vowell, who you may recognize from This American Life (a podcast I’ve only heard a tidbit of, though I mainlined its spin-off Serial) or appearances on The Daily Show (where I have in fact seen her; she was one of Jon Stewart’s last guests). I know very little about the period of American History in her book — or any other periods — though it’s getting a big fandom push lately with the Hamilton musical, which I swear I will listen to in time (Renee Elise Goldberry! My love, my light) — but I’ve inhaled about four of Vowell’s books, starting with probably my favorite, Assassination Vacation, and her writing style is just so goddamn engaging I know I will care. She probably shoulders 80% of the responsibility for my morbid interest in the Civil War era, so you know she’s got chops. Also, like, she’s Sarah Vowell. So give it a go if you don’t know her.
That should keep you cozy and entertained for a while! Now back to your cat.
Disclosure: This post contains affiliate links. In fact most links are affiliate links. That means I may make a small commission if you purchase! And I mean small. But a commission all the same. Esprit unfortunately does not have an affiliate program that I’m aware of, but boy, am I in love with their collection… surprising absolutely no one.