Spotted: this ‘book stop’ in the underground at Oxford Circus this week. A pathetic offering—I’m going to drop some books there next week—but still, exciting to see one in such a central and busy station, which I’m sure has all sorts of red tape for what can and can’t be installed there. I hope other stations follow suit
You’ve heard of MAGA but have you heard of MAHA? The crunchy to alt-right pipeline isn’t new, “but the raw-milk-drinking, vaccine-s[c]eptical, psychedelic-loving Make America Healthy Again movement” is embodied by America’s new health secretary RFK Jr, writes the always observant Jessica Grose for The NYT. It’s giving Apple Cider Vinegar— RFK Jr and Belle Gibson should link up
Marina Hyde and Richard Osman went on a whistle-stop tour of celebrity cool this week, whilst noting how much easier it was to be cool in the pre-social media days of genuine intrigue. Mr Beast: not cool; Steve McQueen: cool; Chappell Roan: cool; Johnny Depp: used to be cool; Timothee Chalamet: used to be cool (“no-one dating a Kardashian can be cool”), Zendaya: “sweet but not cool”. Disagree on the last one, sweet and cool is the best combo imho
I finally learned what limerence means — and it’s nothing to do with Ireland. It’s when you think you’re in love, but you’re actually just hooked on uncertainty. According to Dr Tom Bellamy [via Red magazine, print only] the author of an upcoming book on the neuroscience of romantic obsession, “the sensation of falling in love is enjoyable… the state of limerence, meanwhile, can be exhausting, as it turns into a wild euphoria: a sense of an almost cosmic bond that’s otherworldly.” Would have been great to know this at 17, lol
I can’t remember the last time I was as excited for a TV show to return as I was for s3 of White Lotus, the appeal of which journalist Gillian Orr sums up pithily as “Goop with gunshots”. Too soon to tell if this season will be as epic as the last, but ep.1 introduced a plenitude of disgusting characters to get stuck into (do I spy some incest on the horizon?) and very fun to spy Tanya’s ominous husband Greg, now re-married, amid a sea of bald white heads…
This essay by Eleanor Lucie on how childhood loneliness never entirely leaves you, is so tender (and has duly gone viral multiple times on Substack.) “If you have ever been a lonely child, part of you stays her forever. A void opens up inside you when you are very small and then mocks you all your life for being unable to fill it. No number of friends or strength of love can fill it; the well is bottomless.” The ending is sweet, btw, not sorrowful
Georgia Pritchett for Esquire on the benefits of ‘a stand-in gran’—particularly one who hates children—is delicious. Granny Sausages (christened because she called everyone “sausage” to avoid learning anyone’s name) swam 50 metres a day, drank a quadruple gin and tonic on the dot of 5pm, and turned out to love Pritchett’s children even more than she hated them. I am incredibly lucky to have a stand-in gran (on top of two biological grans)—although she doesn’t hate children (quite the opposite)—and I agree with Pritchett: life is abundantly improved by her existence
I’m unmoved by Pete Davison’s thirsty campaign for Reformation (although I adore the brand generally) but I do have questions (many) about the tat removal, which took fours years to complete. How painful was it? How many sessions did it take? Was he left with any marks? Is there a No.1 guy to go to? Turns out $200,000 can get you some pretty fresh results!
I wish I’d had Harling’s comfortable, creative and instructive roster of style ideas, when I was pregnant. Chronic pain and bodily alienation can make getting dressed a complex and oddly shameful endeavour when pregnant. Do share with incubators in need of inspo
It is official: I have taken leave of my senses. Yesterday I put the cat’s lunch into her bowl—and then immediately misplaced the bowl. Accompanied by the cat’s confused whining, I spent several minutes raging round the kitchen (“where the F have you GONE?” to inanimate bowl) before I heard the microwave ping. I approached slowly, with trepidation. Lo, inside: a steaming hot bowl of canned meat
Incase you hadn’t heard, BOOKS R HOT. (So sexy, notes Emily Sundberg, that Hinge should really add a library option.) When it comes to celebrity brand plug-ins, book clubs are the new skincare lines. From the trusted figures (Reese, Jenna, Oprah), to the young bloods (Kaia, Dakota, Emma), there’s an absolute slew of them right now, notes Emily Gould for The Cut. Reese and Jenna famously shift shit loads—and I’ve been impressed by the titles that I’ve heard Emma Roberts’s Bellatrist (which started as a book club before turning into a production company) has optioned to adapt, which suggest quick instincts and good taste—but Hollywood A-Listers can’t always sell books. When Natalie Portman posts a book on social, notes one (unsurprisingly anonymous) publicist, “people just comment stuff like, ‘Oh, Natalie, you’re so gorgeous,’”. I’d be intrigued to know if Kaia and Dakota sell any, or if it’s a similar situation.
I’ve never been a book club gal—I’d rather chat to one friend about a book than chew over it live with a group—but if I was going to vote for one club, it would be Dua Lipa’s. I’ve got no idea if she sells any books, but her book choices are international and literary—Olga Tokarczuk’s Drive Your Plough Over The Bones of The Dead, Trust by Hernan Diaz (this has reminded me that I want to read both!)—and, you can tell from her thoughtful video interviews, clearly reflective of her own taste and not (a) Thatcher Wine’s.
A portmanteau of ‘romance’ and ‘fantasy’ and currently the most popular literary genre (aided by BookTok, always), romantasy is growing like crazy: twice as many romantasy novels sold in 2023, as 2020. After I sent her this episode of The New Yorker Critics podcast on romantasy, my very literary book agent, N, left me an 11 minute voicenote. So deep has N fallen for the genre—since December, she has read 22 romantasy novels—that she has grown reluctant to leave the house. How can real life possibly compete?