Why I’m Glad I Quit New York at Age 24 - NYmag.com
To be completely clear, I’m happy if you’re happy in New York! [Also, shout out to all of you who have emailed me to confess you’ve never seen The Goonies, either. Are we the silent majority?]
I took out the “Living in New York” slice because we’ve already covered that this week.
#300glenfiddiches - annfriedman.com
Not-comprehensive list of things a man must do to earn my marriage proposal.
Latina bike crews in Los Angeles and an unexplained spooky phenomenon in the Ozark Hills. When gang members tweet and schools ban Invisible Man. Lots of gossipy reporting on Bill and Hillz. The meaning of malls in urban African life. An anti-rape sketch comedy group in India. A Pussy Rioter’s hunger strike. A football coach kicks his meth habit. What’s next for the gay rights movement? On being black and slouching towards feminism. How much it pays to be a (male) thought-leader, and why technology is a means and not an end. Ruminations on (not being on) the Google bus or an America’s Cup yacht. Deep ambivalence about having children and leaving Teach for America. The remoteness of Mazzy Star. Realtalk with W. H. Auden. Inside the mind of Miley’s stylist. An emoji explainer. A peculiar midlife condition called The Referendum.
Just sitting here snacking and judging popular stuff.
Dive-bar karaoke. In addition to my shameful sing-along to “New York, New York,” on Saturday I completed atonal renditions of “Stay” and “Tainted Love” and “Ignition (Remix)” (SORRY). Please reply with your number-one karaoke jam, and I can compile a fantasy setlist. I love the idea of a night of dive-bar drinking with everyone who’s subscribed to this newsletter.
This is the first in a recurring series in which I explain concepts you’re already quite familiar with. Thanks to @amyhuva for this week’s query! Would you like me to Annsplain something to you? Submit a request.
WOMEN’S PANTS are an article of clothing covering your lower half, from waist to ankles—or, for me and my fellow 6-foot sisters, not-quite-to-the-ankles. Wearing them is a visual metaphor for our emasculating claim to power. They typically have unacceptably tiny front pockets or, worse, no pockets at all. (This makes no sense as women will purchase any item of clothing that comes with good pockets. A million ugly “modern” bridesmaid dresses have been foisted upon women this way. “But it has pockets!”) As of late, the definition of “women’s pants” has expanded to include leggings (even though the forward-thinking wikipedia entry refers to them as “a type of skin-tight clothing covering the legs, which can be worn by both men and women”). I support this. In the dark ages, women’s pants were constructed without any stretchy material. This left little breathing room for women's hips, which vary greatly in shape, and absolutely no space for post-snacking belly expansion. I mean, I once had a pair of 80s-era high-waisted Levi’s that were very Thelma and Louise-sexy but absolutely unbearable. No mortal woman can roadtrip in non-stretch denim.
“The best recent extension of Ann's brand." - Chappell Ellison describes this newsletter to her class at the School of Visual Arts.
“You win ALL the prizes for the vintage Morrissey. Additional rainbows and dancing lambs for the newsletter itself. You are probably my favorite person I've never met.” - Greg Volkar
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This newsletter is not really all that popular yet.
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