Father doesn’t know best.
When Women Pursue Sex, Even Men Don’t Get It - NYmag.com
Rat clits, you guys. RAT CLITS.
This isn’t another ‘golden age’ for print - Columbia Journalism Review
I have the dubious distinction of being the only woman quoted in a Port magazine article that makes a poor case for the ongoing relevance of aging white male editors. See also: Ruth Franklin and #WomenEdsWeLove.
Pie chart: When do we feel old? - The Hairpin
Outtake: “Reminding self to wash face with ice-cold water after reading interview with Pharrell about his skincare regimen.” Seriously, is Pharrell Benjamin-Buttoning or what? Anyway, this pie chart endorsed by the actual AARP.
On being fired, one year later - AnnFriedman.com
I cannot believe I’ve been a full-time freelance writer for an entire year. It has been so much fun.
KANYE. Wow. Ghosts of the Rio Grande. “Nothing, not even romance, is sentimentalized more consistently and vehemently than mothers.” On women in architecture, IUD evangelists, and white women heckling Michelle Obama. “So consistently, I read a version of feminism that leaves me out.” How art saved a death-row inmate. Weed is booming in Colorado, and California is taking it to the next level (th;dr?). Fortune on boss ladies in 1956. People at weddings you’ll never see again, and high-school people you wish you hadn’t. LOL at the 90s dance-club “renaissance.” Melissa McCarthy pities her haters and Erykah Badu shuts them down. This high-school commencement speech from a gay graduate in Texas. An ode to my beloved neighborhood, Echo Park. And Cheryl Strayed’s Wild, which is SO GOOD.
I saw Björk at the Hollywood Bowl this week. She was so wonderful I cried six times. Really feeling her ‘90s sexy-weird Possibly Maybe vibe right now.
My trip to Japan was amazing. I rode a little blue bicycle around Naoshima Island and communed with some jaw-dropping modern art. I wandered the streets of Osaka and bonded with a soul singer named Ebe-san and went to little hidden bars on the 3rd and 5th and 8th floors of buildings and ate all kinds of delicious things, including at least two full meals composed solely of snacks purchased in the basement marketplace of the Takashimaya department store. I made some new Japanese friends who taught me the Osakan way to say thank you—”okini!”—which became my mantra as I inconvenienced person after person with my lack of language skills. I hung out in Nara, a small town where wild but docile deer are roaming everywhere. I got my onsen on. I saw exactly one temple, one shrine, and one giant Buddha. Essay forthcoming in AFAR magazine.
Snaxx of Japan! BOSS coffee in a can. Okonomiyaki, which is like a cabbage yam squid egg barbeque mayo pancake. Green tea custard. Mango jelly donuts. Strawberry Kit-Kats and tomato Pretz. Smoked egg onigiri from 7-11. All of the rice crackers. Everything.
Book Club of Shame:
Two weeks ago, I asked you guys which books you’ve been embarrassed to read in public. I have compiled the replies into a handy list for you:
- Under the Banner of Heaven, at the Salt Lake City airport. “It went exactly as well as you would probably imagine.”
- Going Clear, “on the bus into Hollywood while surrounded by Scientologists.”
- Small Business Tax Tips.
- He's Just Not That Into You.
- 50 Shades of Grey, “dust cover distinctly removed.”
- Twilight. “12 year old female cousins are really mean about how uncool it is.”
- The Official Preppy Handbook, hidden behind a copy of Warriner's English Grammar and Composition.
- Valley of the Dolls.
- Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging.
- Sweet Valley High. “I can't help it, the Wakefield twins are my spirit animals.”
- Prairie Tale, Melissa Gilbert’s memoir.
- Caitlin Moran's How to Be a Woman, at the gyno's office.
- Women's Bodies Women's Wisdom, on the subway. “There's a section on masturbation. And why circumcision is bad. It's about as thick as a phonebook.”
- Raising Your Children For Christ, on the tube in London. “I could feel the weight of stared disapproval as I got out at Ladbroke Grove.“
- Breasts: A Natural and Unnatural History. "But also, every time I open Tumblr in a coffee shop and there's, like, a butt covered in soap suds grinding against the screen,” says Amanda Hess. Naturally.
“Thank you for your tireless advocacy of sex-based cults centered around the use of Plan B” - Owen Gardner
"I always click. I usually think it's a personal email. And them i'm like, oh, it's the newsletter." - my friend Zak Stone. Sorry for faking you out with today's TMI subject line, bb. Especially on your birthday. (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!)
Relentlessly mock your friends who have not yet signed up for this newsletter! And on a related note, seriously, when are we all starting this shame-based book club?