Trying to Like Summer + What Caught My Eye (No. 69)

Let me set the scene for you, dear Reader. It is currently just shy of ten o’clock at night and it is 79° outside and 81° inside. Three dogs are panting and twitching and trying to find any bit of comfort on the wooden floor. One of my cats found an old toy — a plush little mouse — when I pulled out the sofa bed and has been running proudly around the room ever since. Four ice cubes are playing bumper cars in their water bowl in the kitchen and if I strain my ears I can hear it clink a little against the porcelain. My own glass of water is sweating on a side table and I am using a receipt from my dry cleaner as a makeshift coaster. I can’t be bothered to reach for anything that’s not arm’s length.

You see, our air conditioner broke. Or the thermostat did. Or fuse blew. Or maybe it was that green wire I hit with my spade when I was planting lilies around the driveway over the weekend. In any case, I have sequestered myself to sleeping downstairs where I am desperate for comfort and cannot find any. Reader, if this is what Hell feels like, I am repentant. I simply can’t imagine facing eternity while being this sweaty.

This is all to say that I am melting and the small relief of the cold shower I took at 8:00 this morning (and 6:00 pm tonight and a quick rinse at 9:00 pm for good measure) wasn’t enough. And still, I’m not willing to give up on Summer just yet. I’m miserable and angry (and did I mention sweaty?), but I have committed myself to finding even a little bit of good in the worst season of the year.

One way I’ve done this is by taking my lunches outside more. I am usually anchored to my desk and skip that precious little hour entirely. But lately I have reminded myself that I have a nice little set-up in the back courtyard and five acres to keep me company (along with a husband-and-wife groundhog duo who are squatting in my barn — rent-free, I might add), so why the hell am I answering emails all day long? My favourite part of that hour is not in the broad-strokes Time Spent Outdoors™, but in the sensorial. The neighbors’ lawnmower humming somewhere off in the distance. The sun-baked pea gravel stinging my feet as I hopscotch my way to the teak chair that I lean precariously back on its hind legs when I’m reading in the sun. The book’s pages are too bright when I forget my sunglasses on the dining room table and if I squint too hard I can see my own eyelashes casting shadows of their own (which reminds me — I need to schedule my next Botox appointment). All these little things I would have missed if I stayed cooped up in my little office, adding one too many exclamation points for an email to a stranger.

The other way I’ve forced myself to enjoy the Summer is by making a proper meal for dinner. I cook nearly everything at home, but of course sometimes it’s a bit phoned-in. This week, I’ve worked to break that habit by cooking a bit more seasonally, which helps to keep the stove off and doubly helps my ego by posting a pretty photo of my meal to brag on Instagram. I’m allergic to the thought of spending a moment longer in the kitchen than I have to, so all the meals this week have been improvised and a bit accidental, coming together in less than an hour and eaten lazily when the sun starts to set, when it’s not so hot, and when the dogs can have a couple bites off my fork after I’ve finished (though they much prefer watermelon, a new favourite among all three).

I won’t say these things make me like Summer, but I tolerate it well enough. And for no other reason than vanity is having me keep up this charade of aestival enthusiasm — I look much better with a tan and have lost two pounds this week.

In any case, the little portable air conditioner is now kicked on and blowing directly in my face, it’s sad little limp hose impotently sucking air in through the window. I think I have enough energy to finish this little newsletter — just for you. Don’t ever say I don’t love you.

Cheers

Bang My Box: The Robin Byrd Story

This documentary hasn’t gotten a lot of attention online, which is quite a shame. I think for many the draw will be that Sarah Jessica Parker produced it, but the real charm is in iconoclastic personality that was Robin Byrd. Though I was not familiar with Byrd prior to this documentary, I’ve come to appreciate the grit, humor, and sheer bravery of having such a sex-positive show on public access television — especially during the AIDS crisis and the Reagan years. I’m particularly drawn to stories like this, where courage doesn’t have to be so stoic, but can be seen through laughter and humor and the ridiculousness of sexuality in all its forms. I was reminded of Eve Babitz throughout.

I think it’s very much worth a watch — and much better than The Invite, which I also saw this week and am once again reminded that films that feel like plays don’t really work. Except for Closer, which (for better or for worse) was my favourite movie from ages 17-22.

Èric Rohmer’s Six Moral Tales Boxset, The Criterion Collection

I guess this Summer you can say I’m Rohmer-pilled, dear Reader. The press around Èlisabeth has renewed interest in the French filmmaker, and it’s come at a perfect time in my own life because: a) I have dived head-first back into French b) I am feeling a bit aimless and melancholic and c) I have a parochial — if quaint — life.

But as you may know by now, I hardly ever get into an interest at just the surface level. I found out that the Criterion boxset of Rohmer’s Six Moral Tales includes a collection of short stories by the director on which the movies were based. As you can’t buy the book separately, I ended up finding the set on eBay for like $30, so now I have something to keep me busy for the next couple of weeks at the very least.

This all, hopefully, will come in handy because I recently recently joined the local chapter of Alliance Française to further practice speaking in person, and will need something to talk about other than work, my dogs, and clothing (luckily, I have this dumb little newsletter for all those very same topics).

NB - I included the Barnes & Noble link to the boxset because all Criterion Collection items from B&N are currently 50% off until July 26 (this isn’t sponsored, it’s just a good deal I stumbled on when writing this newsletter lol)

All Linen Everything

Like clockwork, every Summer I’m either stripped down to my briefs around the house or swaddled in wrinkled linen, often with a permanent coconut-y smell of sunscreen perfuming the collar. In any case, I’ve doubled down on my linens this year and there seems to be no end in sight. I’m quite specific about it all, though, with certain rules I’ve instinctively begun following and can’t seem to break:

• Nothing tailored or too close to the skin

• Preferably worn as a two-piece matching set

• Never worn with trainers

• Always a long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Only toddlers and UPS drivers should wear short-sleeve button-up shirts — a noble job, surely, but not one I tend to want to emulate in my own wardrobe

Quince has been my go-to because the price is too good to pass up. And, because I tend to sweat (as we’ve established above) and like to use a little bit of oil when I’m in the sun, I don’t feel like I have to be too precious with it. Of course, I’ll never turn down a good linen shirt — unless it’s one of those very cheap “100% linen” options from Amazon. I get a rash just looking at them.

Seasalt Cornwall

In my pursuit of filling my closet with more linen (and to take advantage of Nordstrom’s anniversary sale), I stumbled upon a brand called Seasalt Cornwall, which is undoubtedly inspired by its namesake’s coastal region, and immediately added a couple of pieces to my cart. Perhaps it’s because you can trace a good portion of my heritage to the southern part of England that I’m so fond of this brand, but I also like the fact it’s fairly no-frills, with more emphasis on building good garments than a lifestyle out of wearing these garments — a sly bit of marketing that many brands fall victim to. In any case, a couple nice shirts, a roomy suit, and a few fun colorways aren’t rocket science, but they are more interesting to me right now that fashiony fashion brands.

Saint James Breton Striped Shirts

What the hell, why not? I’m willing to double down on my Bretonish / Celtic heritage and head across the Channel to France for this one, too. I have a couple Saint James shirts in my closet, but sometimes feel as though I’m wearing a costume — I think this is entirely an insecurity that comes from living in a rural area and afraid of being noticed (read: beat up by hillbillies). In any case, I’ve been eyeing a few more color varieties to add to my wardrobe, but just don’t want to go too big on horizontal stripes until I’ve had a few more sessions with my personal trainer (I started this week and can hardly move my arms to type right now).

Homies Heel Socks Shoe

While a departure from the previous few style selections, as this is much more stylish and minimalistic, I’ve decided that the next shoe on my wishlist will be the Homies Heel Socks. I’ve been looking for a simple convertible loafer which I can wear as a mule, and I like the overall curves of their design (but this option by Mr. Porter are tied for first place, I think).

Unwaxed Lemons by The Aficionados

The latest magazine from my friends at The Aficionados is now live and I’m happy to share this news with you. For those who aren’t familiar with The Aficionados, they’re a platform and creative community covering independent boutique hotels, architecture, and design. This next edition of their magazine focuses on the Mediterranean, with 36 hotels featured across Italy, Portugal, Greece, Spain, and France. In short — it’s 36 hotels I’m dying to visit, if anyway wants to invite me for a stay 😉

Casa Lawa

Speaking of hotels, I’ve been more and more inspired lately by Casa Lawa, a guesthouse built from lava stones near Mt. Etna in Sicily. But staying on property is only part of the story as owner Lukas Lewandowski also hosts retreats, activations, collaborations, and an agency under the Casa Lawa umbrella. I’m inspired by people like Lewandowski who seems to have built a more creative, colorful life than yours truly — though I do think I’m getting there, slowly but surely.

Flamingo Estate Uniforms, Designed by Staf Studios

Also sitting at the intersection of hospitality and inspiration is Richard Christiansen’s Flamingo Estate. I’ve been a longtime admirer of the brand that Christiansen has built on his seven acres in Los Angeles and love being immediately immersed into the world he’s created. Most recently, Michelle Martini of Staf Studios designed uniforms for the Flamingo Estate staff for the release of their Summer Fig Balsamic. I found the designs simple and elegant, and were apparently inspired by Irving Penn’s Small Trades, a series of portraits of French laborers, including chefs, bakers, butchers, and florists. I just loved it.

A Birkin-Style Bag by Oriana Lamarca

Over the years, there’s been something of a cry for help, which you’d only have found if you’d had read between the lines. You see, one of the greatest sadnesses of my life has been that I haven’t found the perfect bag for my needs. I like to take my desk with me when I go between my at-home office and the writing studio I rent in town. But, like Goldilocks, I’ve found fault with everything laid in front of me. This tote was too small. That bag felt too much like a briefcase I’d find in the Delta Lounge. This one had too thick of a handle, that one’s was too thin and feminine. I’ve amassed a collection of failed attempts to organize my life a bit when I’m lugging my Macbook and a few notebooks from A to Z. Though all of these trials and tribulations, I have always had a sneaking suspicion that the Birkin shape would be just right.

Unfortunately, the other great sadness of my life is that I’m not rich. I could never afford one from Hermès (and wouldn’t buy one anyway, given the fact that I’d be in a constant state of panic because my cat, Daniel, likes to chew on leather — so far his victims include a couple pair of Birkenstocks and a Louis Vuitton tote). In looking for alternatives, I’ve found Oriana Lamarca’s Monica handbag to be the closest in what I’ve been looking for — and, ahem, about $15,000 cheaper. While I’m a bit ambivalent to the world of “dupes”, this one has served me more for function than form, with sturdy reinforced straps, a leather exterior (I really don’t like the concept of faux leather, I’m sorry to say), and nice top zipper for when I can’t be bothered to worry about the whole strap and lock mechanism on the front. The bonus is that it’s a bit chic, too, if you ask me. Which, of course, you didn’t.