Okay. So in the past month I got a new job, started commuting from the burbs to Center City, Philadelphia, applied for and got an apartment, and ultimately moved in to a great studio in the Gayborhood. And by ultimately, I mean that I did so yesterday. So obviously I don’t have any real content for you. Just some stream of consciousness ideas.
You all saw that Shawn Mendes video right? Where at the Met Gala he talked about his girlfriend (alleged beard) Camila Cabello “giving Cher.” I think it is abundantly clear that this is a gay man. I mean it’s been abundantly clear for some time now but come one…that is such common white gay phraseology. I can’t with this man anymore. I simply cannot. And I know I’ve talked about not speculating about people’s sexuality before but like...don’t call me out on my hypocrisies, I’m only human.
On the subject of Camila Cabello, let’s revisit the Cinderella thing for a brief moment. I heard an incredible episode of the Real Housewives podcast Bitch Sesh featuring Kay Cannon, writer/director of Cinderella. Turns out, I really like Kay Cannon. Like really like her. She’s an absolute delight and I think that her heart was in the right place with the movie. I don’t really believe in retracting my previous statements, but I do want to add this as an addendum.
Back to the Met Gala…men just shouldn’t go. I’m sorry but if you’re going to wear a black suit, go work at a fucking investment firm. This is the MET GALA. This is Fashion, not clothes. The bar is so low and yet you still fail to hit it. You—men of Hollyweird—are so fucking disastrous at limbo (yes low bars are harder for limbo but just bear with me here). Wear a skirt, something geometric, a costume, a dress, if you showed up in a t shirt and cargo shorts I’d be happy. Because at least you would stand out! Do your job for once!
I’m letting you know that I got a message on Grindr while typing that and the guy probably lives in my building because that’s the Gayborhood baby!
One more quick note on the Met Gala…I just feel that this could’ve been a moment for people to wear really chic masks (masques if you will) and like encourage people to actually wear their masks but whatever.
CeCe Peniston never got her due but luckily for her Woody’s is obsessed with playing her hit song “Finally.”
The LuLaRich docuseries is truly the eight wonder of this world. It was so divine and delicious and I cannot stress enough how fast you should RUN not walk to it. The way it juxtaposes a white toast Mormon, legitimately inbreeding family with the financial ruin thousands of pairs of tacky leggings brought upon girls named Tammy who had a “Rachel” haircut since ‘92 is just cinematic gold. I can’t be alone in my love of a scam story and this one…babe, it’s one for the ages.
Speaking of scam stories, Elizabeth Holmes of Steve Jobs cosplay fame is actually on trial rn. It’s super exciting to see her weave this narrative of not really having anything to do with the way she and her company defrauded people and actively bamboozled cancer patients. She just didn’t know because of course she didn’t. Her allegations that her partner was manipulative are certainly worth examining—obviously. And I do in fact believe that there was a power imbalance there and I can see a reality in which he swayed her in a variety of ways. That said…she simply had to have known. Just like the LuLaRoe girl knew she was running a pyramid scheme and Erika Jayne knew her wrinkly husband was skimming off the top from orphans and widows (allegedly, though ultimately I’m not worth suing so I could probably just call it fact and get away with it).
Not sure if you’re familiar with a 2011 bop by one miss Florence Welch (and obviously the Machine) called “What the Water Gave Me.” If you are, I implore you to give another listen. IT. HOLDS. UP. Oh and if you’ve never heard it, you are in for a treat. Turns out it’s a great song to walk around and just be little slut to (should I make a playlist of songs like that?)
One last media recommendation…Sex Education Season 3. I’m 3 eps in and it is truly divine. This is one of my favorite coming of age shows and this new season is just as good—perhaps even better—than its predecessors. I’m so in awe of the highly-cultivated, nearly Sofia Coppola aesthetic it has mixed with a clear, modern wit and an undying love and care for the viewers. This show makes no bones about putting us through the ringer but at the end of the day, it wants us to feel something. It wants us to be okay. It wants us to feel a fraction of what its characters feel and leave its world and be better because we’ve seen it. Please. Give it a try. You won’t regret it.
A farewell
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Thank you so much for reading!
I love you (allegedly).
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