Long live magazines
April 20, 2025 | Vol. 137
Missed you last week, and I promise not to make it a trend. But it was Passover, we were in Baltimore celebrating with Coby’s family, and I always overestimate my ability to write and send these newsletters in those moments that are clearly not conducive to it. So here’s an extra-long helping in return. I hope you had a great Passover if you celebrate. And unless I overestimate myself again, I’ll see you here next week:
If you’re into this, tap that ♡ below, won’t you?
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If there’s one piece you read today, I hope it’s this one. Taffy Brodesser-Akner, one of my favorite feature writers, shows us a master class in inserting yourself into the piece. She shares her friend’s dying father’s Holocaust story, despite having told herself she would never write about the Holocaust. Growing up on a heavy dose of WWII education—“The Holocaust was the water in which we swam, invisible to us but there we were, sopping wet.”—she resisted wading back into those waters. But the time felt right:
“I had not told Mr. Lindenblatt’s story, the thing he asked me for forever, and now he was dying. All the Holocaust survivors were dying. All the Holocaust survivors were dying, and at home in New York, spray-painted swastikas had been showing up all over town, and my nephews had stopped wearing their yarmulkes. Yes, all the Holocaust survivors were dying, and we were locked in debates over whether a salute given by a newly installed government official was a Nazi dog-whistle or a Nazi Nazi-whistle or maybe just an awkward wave or a weird shout-out to his buds.”
She considers her own upbringing as the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors who, unlike Mr. Lindenblatt, weren’t as keen to share their stories.
“The war was an assassin that stood over us, threatening to shoot if we looked it in the eye. But it was there. It was there when my grandmother wouldn’t leave any food on the table and combined all the remaining liquids into one glass and drank them. It was there when my grandfather told me he didn’t believe in God, because what kind of God would allow a war like that to happen? In those moments, I glimpsed into the window of their suffering and saw a universe of pain with no floor or ceiling.”
This one I felt deeply. As the granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor, too, I sit here wondering if I should’ve asked more questions, sat in the uncomfortable silence a little longer, and given my grandfather more grace to form the words. It’s a beautiful, lengthy, worthy piece.
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Hard pivot: I love when writers don’t take themselves too seriously and, in doing so, are able to tackle a pervasive subject in a unique, vulnerable, and genuine way. Like Botox! Fiftysomething Sarah Miller charts her Botox journey, including a vacation in North Carolina in which she desperately needed (wanted?) to find some after it had worn off:
“I am picky about wine, movies, jewelry, and colorists, but I had started to view Botox the way I have long viewed beer, coffee, and the gynecologist—which is, respectively, if it’s cold, if it wakes me up, and if it can scrape cells off my cervix, then it’s good enough for me.”
Of the provider she found via some light Googling, she writes:
“She had a vast, smooth forehead, and the ‘Finding Nemo’ lips that result from too much filler, or from lip-line Botox injections that give the mouth an assertive, daffy outward pop. Her eyebrows seemed to be pulling her eyes open by some invisible string. Her age was a complete mystery and may be forever lost to the sands of time.”
This piece is just a good time.
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We shared a Gwyneth profile a couple of weeks ago, so it’s only fitting that we include her daughter, Apple Martin, new-ish to the public eye, in here, too. Here’s her Interview magazine debut (she interned at the magazine two years ago). Of avoiding the public eye (sort of), she says:
“I was like, ‘I don’t think we need another celebrity child in the world.’ I just try to do what feels right and block out anything regarding me in the news to the best of my ability.”
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Just a quick mention of Pandora Sykes, who is a great follow if you love books, though she also touches upon a million other things, all of which she makes relatable and interesting. In her latest Books and Bits dispatch, she shared a Guardian piece about the relief that nothing is ever truly original. Just a taste of the feel-good, makes-you-think content Pandora shares:
“If you can wriggle your way off the meat hook of expectation and stop telling yourself that you have to make something unique and new, then perhaps you can free yourself up to make something that’s actually good.”
An image that remains seared into my mind (in a good way) is of Ruth Bader Ginsburg lifting weights. A tiny, but let’s face it, powerful, woman doing bicep reps when I don’t know the last time I lifted a weight above 5 lbs. This documentary short, Strong Grandma, is a sweet look at an older woman refusing to be defined by her age. When a film opens like this, you know you’re in for something unique: “I’m Catherine Kuehn. I’m 95 and a world-record deadlifter.”
What else on the viewing front? I don’t yet have a wholehearted recommendation, but I’m working on it. Hacks (HBO Max) is back, which, if you’ve watched the last three seasons, I don’t need to convince you about. Great dialogue, great chemistry, great showrunners. The Studio (Apple TV+) is a fun insider-y look at the Hollywood machine by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg with a whole bunch of celebrity cameos. And I recently rewatched the 2007 movie Juno (Hulu) for the first time in ages and it is a wonderful, singular movie with so much heart. As Roger Ebert wrote in his original review, “The film has no wrong scenes and no extra scenes, and flows like running water.” So, until I have a strong viewing recommendation I feel compelled to shout from the rooftops, maybe my rec is to rewatch something you know you love: you’ll always discover something new about it.
I dare you to play Bad Bunny's Tiny Desk concert without so much as moving to the beat. Impossible! What an excellent 33-minute performance, thanks in large part to an immensely talented band. (Head to the end to hear them all do their thing.)
Also, Bad Bunny and I have the same glittery baseball cardigan and that pleases me so much.
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Lately, I’m all about minimizing stuff, or the thought of it, at least. (We all have to start somewhere.) But then this kind of story comes along, where a person unpacks all of their objects and the history behind them and I fall for it. I want every detail. I admire the creativity that comes with a highly curated collection of things that make a life, a home, a person.
In Curbed, Kim Hastreiter, who co-founded PAPER magazine in 1984, shows us her objects, from the mundane to the extra special. A self-portrait made using makeup removal wipes, Jackie O’s phone number, lunch meat coasters, a figurine of Michael Jackson dangling his baby off a balcony. (“John [Waters] gave it to me decades ago with a note: ‘Thanks for looking after the cat.’”) Each one has a story and they’re the kinds of stories that give me hope for the future of storytelling. ChatGPT could never. Peruse at your leisure.
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Long live magazines! I think I’ve been saying that since I was five. I love flipping through magazines and I’m pretty sure that’s always been my favorite part about getting a manicure; their glossy pages, their predictable layouts, their immaculate curation. We can all agree, though, that as an industry, magazines are not doing so hot. An issue of a major fashion magazines these days might be comprised of 50% ads at this point, and I’ve probably read the cover story online already, but! Independent magazines are cropping up and making exciting content again. Maybe because instead of being a disposable product, they’re regarded as a luxury item of sorts. Marisa Meltzer rounds up a few of them. Cultured feels like the biggest of the bunch. The Gentlewoman is coffee table material. And I newly subscribed to l’etiquette after seeing screenshots of some irresistible editorials on Instagram. They all seem exciting to me.
When this was intended to go out at the beginning of Passover, I had some ideas for holiday-friendly recipes to include in here. Now that the holiday is nearly over, instead, I’m sharing the blueberry muffin recipe that I want to make right now. As Alison Roman, this is what makes a great muffin:
Not too sweet, but sweet enough
Pleasantly eggy, moist but not cake-y
Domed, but not at the expense of the muffin’s interior
No crumble topping (this isn’t coffee cake)
“More blueberries than you think possible to fit inside, but they do.”
Tastes excellent the next day
And she seems to have achieved it. Ask me tomorrow if these muffins live up to the hype.
Is it too early to be getting into summer mode, sartorially speaking? Or at least to prepare? All I can really think about are raffia bags and whether I’ll actually be able to pull off non-athletic shorts this year. So, indulge me. Here are the things propelling me into warmer months:
Let’s just do the shorts thing and get it over with. My friend Lauren recommended this linen pair by Donni and it does look like a good one with a button-down (tucked or not). I’m falling for the High Sport stripe—ugh—but the colors and the fabric and the stripe widths are just so good. Let’s add a gingham boxer short in here (with matching top?) or buy the Uniqlo version and call it a day. Call me crazy, but I’m tempted by this taffeta board short, too. The only pair of shorts I own and love are by Maria McManus, found on The RealReal: drawstring, but not stretchy, using thin and excellent cotton. Dôen’s Paige short has always been on my list, but I haven’t tried it in person; perhaps this is the year. And here are Suzie Kondi’s bloomers if you’re really going in on the short-shorts concept.
Despite my quest for shorts, I’ll always be a pant lady at heart. Summer just means lighter fabrics. This Ralph Lauren pant is about as heavy as we get and it’s not so bad; a great green pant for daily wear. Donni might be the brand of summer; adding these gingham pants to the list. Le Bon Shoppe offers a different cut. This fringe pair from Dôen is flirty and right for nighttime. Also this striped pair might scratch that High Sport itch.
The times I’ve Googled “poplin midi skirt”… it’s almost embarrassing, but it’s a category I haven’t quite found my Goldilocks piece in. A few contenders are: Matteau’s tie-waist, Jenni Kayne’s platonic ideal, Banana Republic’s with pleats, and Massimo Dutti’s almost-sold-out style. And Quince! Black skirts work too, like this one from La Ligne and this tie-waist from the Row.
I got this Mango dress to try on and she’s a keeper. Fabiana Pigna is always a reliable maker of interesting, light dresses. Or Natalie Martin if you like patterns.
The stripes continue! The brand Sir has been relentless in targeting this bikini to me and I’m almost ready to take the bait. Or is this striped one-piece by Lido the move? In any case, this canvas beach bag by Kule (with zipper) is certainly a good idea; I love an unlikely color pairing. Last stripe: a raffia tote in smaller and larger sizes.
To close out the miscellaneous category: I want this hat! Lisa Corti makes the prettiest sarongs. These jelly sandals will rival whatever designer one we thought we wanted. (So will the latest J.Crew x Tkees collab).
And that’s it from me. More soon. x