#67 The Offcuts
Links, opinions, and your favourite rambles
It’s been eighty-four years.
More accurately, it’s been seven weeks - two weeks later than I had planned to resume writing The Offcuts - and it’s the wrong day but tada, here I am. We’re back, baby - did you miss me?
I spent the last seven weeks partying until my feet stopped working at Glastonbury, celebrating my friend turning 30 on a boat in Berlin, and travelling around Colombia, making new friends, eating good food, and brushing up on my limited Spanish skills.
Since being home, I’ve felt incredibly run down (unsurprisingly). I’ve also been soaking up what’s left of another London summer and trekking to Edinburgh for the fringe, setting a new record of twelve shows seen. I was there until Wednesday, rounding off the trip with what was an unforgettable evening spent with two middle-aged Mancuians.
And, like I said last Thursday, I’ve been a little bit shy. But luckily for you, I was drip-feeding snippets, links and ideas into a draft for the next Offcuts the entire time. Vamos.
My reading has slowed in the past few weeks. I’m still three books ahead of schedule to hit 52 books this year, but I did 58 last year, and really I want to reach 60. I’m one chapter into Laurie Colwin’s Happy All The Time, and I’m hoping it will get me back into a more regular reading routine. I adored Another Marvellous Thing. Colwin’s craft of male characters in love is something I won’t tire of.
Other things I’ve read:
Meet the ‘Normans’
The rise of the reality star DJ
The lies, deceit and desperation of the real Salt Path
The foodification of beauty
The return of conservative, skinny ideals
- The privilege of avoiding bad news
I can’t wait to watch Freakier Friday! Lindsay Lohan’s acting revival has been, in my humble opinion, flawless. Each poorly executed romcom that’s dropped on Netflix in recent years has been welcomed with open arms. I sincerely hope yet another Christmas movie is in the works this year (and for every year after). Cinema is weird at the moment, though. Live-action remakes that no one asked for, sequels for films that don’t need them, new instalments to franchises that are best left alone. Oh, originality, where art thou?
Tomorrow I’m going to head over to the Design Museum to catch Splash! before it ends on Sunday. The exhibition “dives into design’s role in shaping our relationship with swimming”. I’d simply kick myself if I didn’t go.
The dreams of my inner teenage self came true this week when I saw Oasis live in Edinburgh. Through tears, tantrums and ticket gambles via Viagogo, we made it. Whenever I’ve been asked the question “What bands or artists would you want to see play, dead or alive?” my three answers have always been Oasis, Fleetwood Mac, and Queen. I am ecstatic to have crossed one off the list. It was undoubtedly the best gig of my life.
A throwback now I suppose, but watching the Lionesses win the Euros for the second time in a row was a moment of emotional overwhelm for me. Exactly the same as before. I sobbed and wept with cheer, pride and hope for the women who each fought their way into football and have inspired a whole generation of young girls. I also learnt that Chloe Kelly’s penalty kick was faster than any ball kicked by a male footballer in the previous Premier League. It felt like vindication for all those who remain dismissive of women’s football or don’t watch it because it’s not as “professional”. (a true story).
Another spice to share is that I’m having Spanish lessons. Feeling inspired after Colombia, my friend recommended Preply (they’ve got a good referral scheme if you’re looking, too). Two lessons down, and I’m enjoying being a student again. Me gusta.
My last few orders on Vinted have been so hit and miss. I love shopping second hand, finding one-off pieces or something a little bit different, especially for festivals, but I’m repeatedly having problems with orders going wrong - items never delivered, the wrong items turning up and Vinted refusing to help. I’ve even had to ask my bank to step in and help solve an issue before. It’s frustrating.
On my flight home from Colombia, I watched Sex and the City - The Movie. Oh, how those girls keep me young. I actually wrote down a note in my phone to find the book Carrie reads to Big in bed before their doomed wedding. I’m not sure it even exists. Here’s one someone created after the film came out. It made me think about, not tonight, Josephine, not the bar in London but the phrase that Napoleon supposedly said to his wife in response to her proposition for intimacy. It’s sadly all a myth.
At the weekend, my sister and I discussed quotes or phrases with forgotten origins. I told her that ‘Live Laugh Love’ came from the 1904 poem Success by Bessie Anderson Stanley, written in 1904 - a great place to end.
He has achieved success
who has lived well,
laughed often, and loved much;
