Lots to read this week, though my favourite was offline: ‘Sentimental Journeys’ by Joan Didion, a long and old essay on the Central Park Jogger case and NYC at the end of the 1980s. It was published in the NYRB and you can pay to read it here. I would say it’s definitely worth it, but then again, I would say that.
I hated the book and I hated myself for buying the book, and I especially hated that I had used profit reaped from the use of my brain to invest in this vanity. It was vanity not only in that it was concerned with my appearance, but it was a condescension to the socially acceptable form of self-obsession that is self-loathing. I aspired to the nobility of a rich inner life and intellectual pursuit, but the only thing I put serious work into was my idea of aesthetic purity. The two impossible aims would not sit still together in my head.
This week’s clicks are a little late as I was away (in Paris! so wonderful, cheese, wine and walking miles and miles) on Friday. But here is what I thought was best on the internet this week:
And here, I realize, is why most stunt sex blog posts are written by married or partnered women. Their husbands know what they’re in for and are either good natured or wearily resigned to being an exhibitionist lunatic, plugging away joylessly over some new sex toy or trendy technique while they wonder why they didn’t ask for a Meyers-Briggs before signing the lease.
"I don’t think I can do this," he says finally, and gently refuses my offer to remove the Spanx, forsaking the whole spirit of journalistic enterprise.
"Must have been the tallboys," I say. He smiles wanly.
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The Critical Whirl. ‘I’ve read too much Marx and I can’t get my words out’
Circle hand clockwise in a small but rapid motion towards the audience.
Accelerate and repeat until idea unpacked.
a good week for reading on the internet! i’m writing this on thursday night so i don’t panic around noon on Friday. there was plenty to read this week, more than enough to keep me occupied on my phone on the 271 stuck in traffic in St Pancras.
When Theresa Duncan, 40, took her own life on July 10, followed a week later by her boyfriend, Jeremy Blake, 35, their friends were stunned and the press was fascinated: what had destroyed this glamorous couple, stars of New York’s multi-media art world, still madly in love after 12 years?
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It’s just straight up my favourite thing about London, to me it seems almost magical, stupid even, that there are almost 800 acres of forest and wilderness sitting on top of the city and that a stomp around here will shake off even the nastiest of cobwebs on a Sunday afternoon.
Weekly round-ups from the get-go might have been an overly ambitious idea, but here we go again: the things I read and saw this week, curled under three duvets attempting to stay warm.
It doesn’t take much. A deserted street at dusk, with the summer sunlight lingering on the upper floors of a row of buildings and the sidewalks down below already deep in shadow, may get some old movie in our heads rolling again. Since we are ordinarily better at forgetting than remembering, it is often a mystery why some such sight has stamped itself on our memory, when countless others that ought to have far greater meaning can hardly be said to exist for us anymore.
'Memory Traps' by Charles Simic, November 2012
When it comes to sex and gender, fashion frankly has to get smarter. Because at this point we’ve seen it all before. In 2013 it’s no longer subversive to mix latex and lace and paint it as the sexual stifling of the feminine mystique.
I wrote an essay for SHOWstudio about what I thought was going on the recent Spring/Summer 2014 collections. What I saw was a lot of intricate conversations on power and female sexuality and what those things mean for both designers and for the women wearing the clothes. I think it’s an important time for all those things in not just fashion but in pop culture as a whole for women and girls. It will be interesting to see, of course, where we go from here.