When this comes out I’ll actually be on another holiday. AGAIN. Ugh, I know. Mentioning it was totally unavoidable. In a few weeks, it’ll be one year since my Dad died so I’m keeping busy and have decided this year will be the opposite of rest and relaxation. Carpe diem. How’s my week been? Pretty manic. All of my own making. I had a 72-hour window to unpack, repack and squeeze in a couple of nights out too. Watching Paul Mescal in A Streetcar Named Desire was non-negotiable.
Last week I finished Pamela Anderson’s autobiography Love, Pamela. I’ve been in a bit of an autobiography phase for a while now. I’ll confess… I listened to it on Audible instead of actually reading it, but let’s not get bogged down in the technicalities of ‘Newly Read’. I find listening to autobiographies read by the author adds an extra layer of magic. Hearing their story in their own words and then some. Anyway, I’m now obsessed with Pam. She’s great and her book was great. I’ve been left ruminating about the concept of identity and image ownership among ‘bombshell’ celebrity women.
I’ve seen that A Good Person is now on Now TV Movies! Like the rest of the world, I too am obsessed with Florence Pugh. I’m inclined to watch things she’s stared in that I otherwise might have overlooked. Like The Wonder. I enjoyed it but would I have liked it so much without Florence starring? Unsure. So yeah, I’ve been excited to see it. Has anyone else watched it yet, what did you think?
Baked goods are hot shit. They are back. They never really went away. I challenged myself to see how many bakeries I could visit over the weekend I was in Copenhagen. I got to three in the space of a few hours on the first day and called it as I thought it was possible I actually may pass away if I had any more. The tirami-choux was where I had to call it quits. I’m still thinking about it now and I regret nothing.
Why are we (as in, the whole of society) not completely preoccupied with the fact croutons are incompatible with every form of cutlery? Apart from maybe a spoon. Why do we still even bother to put them in food that isn’t soup? You’ve got to work so hard to get the little bastards from plate to mouth. Even if you manage okay to catch them with a spoon in a soup they all go soggy. I’m done. It really is the end of an era.
I read an essay on our relationship with nostalgia and romanticising the past. This definitely has potential for a newsletter down the line but for now, it shall serve as my prompt of the week. The opening line was “you will never be again what you never were before.” Much to consider.
