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A beautiful start to Virgo season to all who celebrate, from a splendid Sunday in Scotland. I’m now wistfully eyeing the homestretch of my time here, trying to see and do everything I haven’t yet seen and done, while also knuckling down with the doctoral dissertation that my crippling depression derailed for a FEW YEARS there. Anyway here’s how it’s all going so far.
The BBC this week aired a very divisive Disclosure documentary that essentially described central Glasgow as a filthy, violent hellhole. I’m not entirely disputing that, but as a New Yorker living in Glasgow, I also feel qualified to call the BBC a bunch of posh little pussies. You do not come for my filthy, violent hellholes!
When I first detoured to Glasgow in 2025 to see if I wanted to come here, the chaos of Argyle Street — which was that AFTERNOON full of rowdy footballers, drunk hen parties, broken phone booths, and a man screaming “CUNNNNNNT” at passersby — did not immediately set Flower of Scotland zinging in my heart. I felt like I’d just entered The Purge.
Since coming here, I have seen fights and I have seen drug use. I know there is an uptick in reports of sexual violence (a figure that also, we should note, includes domestic reporting). And the area’s latest eruptions of anti-immigrant displays are demoralizing. The BBC happened to be in town filming during that very ugly racist march this summer and they ate that shit up. But call me a jaded urbanite, I think describing any area that has a Uniqlo as a “no-go zone” is a bit broad. Come for the Mad Max Fury Road vibes, stay for the JW Anderson collabs.
The BBC reports that “Our film crew were verbally abused and threatened by a group of young men hanging around near the shopping centre. It was an intimidating atmosphere and it made us consider what it must be like for someone vulnerable walking on their own.” Yeah, I’m sure they were like, “Piss off, you dodgy media cunts” and honestly I kind of get it. Now, I don’t trot around with a camera crew aimed at the local ne’er do wells, but I can say as a vulnerable (female, older) person that I generally feel just fine walking around the mall where I get my cute little Sostrene Grene notebooks and I saw Spa Weekend on Friday night.
The city has serious and real challenges, and this outsider is wildly underqualified to adequately address them. I recommend Glasgow Live’s thoughtful, realistic take from a local perspective for more context, and this in-depth conversation from The National on the “infuriating” far-right platforming the BBC is facilitating.
And as much as I take the piss here weekly, I would hate for anyone to get the impression from the BB fucking C that Glasgow — even its grubby little center — is not one of the most vibrant, welcoming, beautiful places in the world. Many things can be true at once, even contradictory things, and I have been inexpressibly grateful every single day since I arrived here for the gift that is this magnificent city. Here’s a photo I took downtown at 6.30pm a few nights ago. Wow, what a war zone.
On to the week…
And finally, took an early morning train and this is what I saw as it idled, like a rail service on a vape break.
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