Return of the (Denim) Mac
There are literally more important things happening everywhere but here.
Hi, I have really been wanting to write again; the urge has been pulling me back for months and there have been some bits written and saved and hastily put away when the fear comes a-calling – and she does love to come a-calling at inconvenient times of the day and night.
Random poems, doodles, vignettes, observations, brilliant things that people say, quotes are all scrawled over the place – on my phone, in my emails, in the margins of my notebooks next to articles and musings and phrases I like the sound of. For the sake of my data, storage and notebooks I am putting these here.
What have I been up to?
I keep moving, keep culling, keep honing my life into some sort of shape – new jobs, new postcodes, new people. I am unable to even pick up a parcel without ending up in a conversation with someone or as my pal yelled when they heard me in the corridor outside the door, “who the hell are you making friends with now?!” which is a fair observation and I don’t think I could change now even if I wanted to.
Mostly good things: grew my hair, cut in a fringe, grew the fringe out, cut it off, made it blonde again, sent it back to its natural colour and cut it off again with an ever so slightly different fringe, got back to my just about NHS acceptable pre-pandemic weight and then discovered I hated all of clothes and sold loads of them. Finally got my slowly-rotating tooth looked at, fell in love with my dermatologist because he was funny and nice – he knows nothing of this of course but - we will marry in the Autumn, I travelled about a tiny bit, I have managed to keep some plants alive and not some others (RIP basil plant), I watched a saccharine YouTube tutorial where an American women described me a plant parent and while my entire insides died, the world’s neediest peace lily has survived to see another near death experience probably in 6 weeks’ time. Oh, and like, dodging covid.
Why was I not writing this entirely unnecessary newsletter?
Well, I had a significant urge to simply live on a tiny marooned (but beautiful, well designed and eco-compliant) barn on a small island off the coast of Scotland where I would become the elegant and peaceful person that I know myself to be if only the conditions were right - because I am 100% wedded to this belief despite over-whelming evidence to the contrary. And yet, what worked in the end was a little bit of time, a little bit of patience with the world, a little bit of consistent living and letting go of some things and some people I really didn’t want to let go of but definitely weren’t helping me in the game of life.
I lack the propensity for sincerity and earnestness in the most part, preferring to say jarringly understated or amusingly overstated things - so read this with that context: I was a bit fed-up.
And now I am not so fed-up anymore but in the emotional epiphany stakes what I realised was I was very unwell a few years ago and I am still making sense of that. Now I just have a bad few days from time-to-time and I will take that thank-you-very-much it is nice to have haircuts and not feel like the sky is full of doom and everyone is really angry and disappointed with me for everything at all times. The further I get away from that time the more I look at it curiously from a distance, what happened there? The game is to find out how to never make that happen again and the not always comfortable acceptance of how a layer of me has been removed and can never be returned, accepting I will never be 100% back. Whenever I think about this sadness I think of this industrial pipe type building by the side of the road on the coastal route to Edinburgh, it’s painted shade of sky blue for whatever strange planning permission reason. Seeing it always makes me feel depressed but accepting and I have no idea why. But that is always the picture that comes with the feeling: a sky blue industrial pipe that everyone can see but they tried to make it look ok.
I’d like to write about things, words, a little bit of clothes. Those are my only real interests outside of eating at the girl name restaurants of East London Jolene, Rochelle, Cecilia, Gloria… not Gail’s (Ok. Once or twice I have had a coffee from Gail’s) and drinking impromptu red wines in dull bars around Westminster and nicer bars around postcodes E17, E9, E8. You are not required to read a word of it. I promise.
Excellent things to read - in my humble opinion
The Vibe Shift – is this guy right or a talentless chancer who has worked out that every 5 years or so we all wear slightly different shaped jeans and trainers? I have no idea, but pop culture discourse is my favourite thing to read. Elder millennials are now the managers and Gen Z are the creators and tastemakers and we all must reckon with aging and irrelevance through buying different jeans. Bring back putting anchors and the outline of a swift on everything I say.
Burnout – what the hell happened? I have become radicalised in the pandemic about work and working practices – or rather my radical ideas about what work should be - have levelled out.
Magical Shoes – sometimes the clothes do make the man but only in that Paul McKenna mind trickery way. I could read and listen to people talk about their clothes all day long. I want to know your favourite outfits. Tell me e v e r y t h i n g.
Less Wanton Consumerism
Am I tired of French girl minimalism? Not quite. Am I bored of seeing the same 8 items on the same tasteful bodies pretending to walk down a street? Yes. Maybe not quite a vibe shift but definitely ready for something a little bit more unexpected and a little bit fresher. How many times can you see that Frankie Shop quilted jacket and still feel like the world is not a simulation? Do the oceans need more microplastics? No. Do the emotionally barren CEOs of the 3 companies that rule the globe need more profits? No, I think we’re all sort of on the same page about this.
As Spring approaches and we embrace the words “capsule wardrobe” and throw around terms like “high quality basics” with unearned competence and careen between wanting 15 item H&M hauls to one incredibly expensive plain black bag – I remain wedded to trusty, reliable and functional coats.
Aiming for squarely in the middle between a Burberry trench (which even at the outlet next to my house is eye-wateringly expensive though timeless) or this seasons denim trench coat – I have landed at the infinitely longer life in the classic denim jacket. I just can’t decide between these ones.
&otherstories slightly oversized but not swamping in true blue
Classic Levis Trucker Jacket. Embroider your lovers’ initials above the pocket in red chain stitch because take that Britney and Justin and I, uncharacteristically, want to do that.
Rixo being show-offs with the way they clash things, I can see this being pulled out time and time again over years and years.
Agony Aunt
I am woefully unqualified but with access to some excellent people that form a committee of wisdom to provide answers to dilemmas to be answered. I think sometimes you need the collective wisdom of the hive mind to stop you having “an attack of the mads”
This is from the Sunday Times.
Dear Dolly
I can’t stop stalking my ex on social media.
I broke up with my ex just over a year ago and I can’t stop stalking him on social media. He got Instagram shortly before we broke up and has recently started posting stories. Naturally I assumed he began doing this to get my attention. I also stalk his (and his friends’) Facebook/Spotify/Strava … you name it, regularly! I find myself getting upset or making things up based on what I find. For example, I have convinced myself he’s seeing a new girl purely because he and his best mate newly follow her on Instagram. How do I stop this ridiculous behaviour?
Me: “Stop, block everywhere and on everything, build your walls high, protect your peace – there is nothing – absolutely nothing – that knowing will help you live your one precious life. Time will do the rest.”
Gay Male LTR: “Consider why you’re doing this. If you want to get back with, why did you end it originally? We’re all too connected and the optimal time was when phones could only send SMS.”
Gay Male Single: “This sounds serious if Strava is involved and you need to stop. Take a complete break from social media for a few weeks, set yourself a goal for 30 days; spend more time in the real world. I am not saying she should stalk him in real life.”
Straight female chic divorcee: “Get on the apps and find a new one! Why are you texting me about this, what’s happened?”
If you would like to read the thoughtful published response of actual Agony Aunt Dolly Alderton here.
