A tale of 27 and a half years
What a difference a day makes
Tomorrow is my half birthday. Non-believers step aside. It’s fact that my birthday is six months from now and naturally I shall be indulging.
On my birthday is actually when I committed to creating a Substack and sent out a ‘coming soon’ post into the ether. Of course, I also spent much of my day just writing. Exactly as I planned. I wrote things I envisioned sharing on my “maybe one-day” Substack. Another few drafts saved for later. Sharing wasn’t something I was ready to dive straight into then. I decided to mull it over and wait another four months before finally just saying ‘okay, fuck it’ and post something every week since. I couldn’t just dip my toes in and see, I needed to be pushed to boiling point. Words were overflowing from my saucepan.
So, I wanted to share a draft from six months ago. I think if went back now and told myself as I sat typing this ‘you do end up sharing the things you write!’ I’d be incredibly happy and proud. I don’t want to overpromise that this particular draft is groundbreaking. It isn’t. It’s a short winding train of thought, destination unknown. Tickets please.
I think I love staying in hotels. It’s the eve of my 27th birthday and I’ve just checked into The Hoxton in Shoreditch. Smooth Chill was on the Roberts when I opened my door. As if I needed anything more to fuel the “main character energy” narrative for birthday plans. Mmm, I smell exuberance in the air. After a turbulent year, some hopefulness and excitement are much welcomed here.
My room looks directly into Nobu Hotel and it’s like I now exist purely in a hotel paradigm. Like when you reflect a mirror into another mirror and infinity lays before your eyes. It’s the same for me right now. Sitting in one hotel with another staring back. A hotel stalemate.
I’m sitting at the writing bureau. I mean it’s a really a built-in shelving unit, modest at best, but that just ruins the aesthetic I’m trying to create for you. This tan leather captain’s chair understood the assignment though, it’s incredibly extra. Unsure whether my posture will survive the ordeal unscathed but it certainly looks the part. As the night begins to draw in, illuminated rooms opposite become easier to peek into. Did I have room envy? Maybe. Perhaps I can stay there next, why not? Really I had no need whatsoever to even stay in this hotel right now. A birthday is as good an excuse as any.
27. Now I am officially older than my dad has ever known me. The start of a new year and a new age in which he will never know me. I think my mum was actually 27 when they got married. Each year feels so much more potent than the last. Mature. I already know how ridiculous that sounds because yes, that is ageing by definition. Hear me out. Genuinely it’s like mature cheese. Or wine. Or both. In front of a roaring fire with freshly baked bread… I greedily digress. Cheese and wine become mature after they’ve been left for a period of time to allow the full flavour and strength to develop. It resonates, right? More than the idea of being mature on the basis of being an adult, fully grown or reaching a certain age. It’s about your defining characteristics, values and qualities that strengthen and develop over time.
One of the main pitfalls I find with hotels is how the hierarchy of hotel ratings reinforces a privilege gap. I mean, duh. But specifically when it comes to climate change and emissions. Why does it still feel like a “luxury” to have fresh clean, towels daily? Or worse, to have entirely new bedding after every sleep. This behaviour is so outlandish and inconsiderate towards our planet yet we view it as a treat. A “treat” to contributing towards an uninhabitable world.
It rings true in comparison to the use of private jets. More recently (*back in October anyway) a hoard of celebrities have come under fire for their blazé use of private air travel, particularly short trips which could have been a drive of under an hour. Objects of opulence sadly seem synonymous with the destruction of our world. Or if not destruction then they definitely tip the scales towards making life that little bit worse for others.
I wonder how long it will take for consumerism to catch up en masse? We’re already on the road. Fast fashion is facing a comeuppance of sorts, with influencers and celebrities getting challenged more pointedly than ever before for their decision to partner with and promote the likes of Boohoo, Pretty Little Thing or Shein. Cars are moving away from diesel towards electric power. What does a brighter future look like for travel and tourism?
With that, a naked Nobu man takes timer selfies, spread bare on crisp white sheets. I bid my accidental hotel voyeurism adieu.
This was lovely Mary, so proud of you gf❤️