Girls, Shopping, Home Envy 🫧

I only threw this newsletter 4 u

Sup!

Hope everything is going well 4 u. Likes this week outside of rating and hating: beer pong, chorizo, Uber, the trailer for Too Much, this devastating podcast interview with Sufjan Stevens for the ten year anniversary of Carrie and Lowell. Get ready to cry in Aldi!

Now for the newsletter. I’m sorry for all the bourgeoisie complaining throughout. I’ve just finished Theft By Finding and haven’t yet realised that I am not David Sedaris ❤️

🥗 SWEETIE RATES 🥗

101 years of being earth side

I had the most intense craving yesterday for a Caesar salad—I know, stop the presses!— and while I did not find the right opportunity to share a moment with one, I now know should have tried harder. It turns out my craving was kismet.

You see, this week was Caesar salad's 101st birthday. And I fucking forgot. Which is awful, because I would jump out of a birthday cake for Caesar salad. I would seductively sing “Happy Birthday”, Marilyn Monroe-style. I would have thrown a party with Caesar salad-themed trivia.

Like, did you know that Caesar salad is technically Mexican food and not, as I long assumed, invented by Julius Caesar? Which I probably should have figured out earlier, seeing as I don’t think Julius Caesar had access to Worcestershire sauce? Gosh, what a fun quiz that would have been!

Anyway, thank you, Caesar salad. I love your work, I love you with steak frites, with chicken, with thin, salty fries, with a cold Diet Coke. I even love you when you come in a sad plastic box from the supermarket.

Caesar salad, to me, you are perfect. Happy freaking birthday, baby. I love doing this little thing called life with you.

Growth

I’ve been rewatching Girls for the first time since it came out, (great TV show. Thrilled I never have to be in my twenties again). In the years after the show came out, I often had people tell me how similar I was to the character of Hannah Horvath, played by Lena Dunham. My response to this, obviously, was “I hope you drown in a peat bog”. I never, ever stopped being mortally offended by the comparison. Hannah? How could I be similar yo Hannah? Hannah is awful! Hannah makes terrible decisions! She’s utterly delusional, privileged, dim and a bad writer!

Now, over a decade later, the truth couldn’t be clearer. I’m not just like Hannah Horvath. I am Hannah Horvath. The neuroticism, the solipsism, the obvious OCD spirals, the way there’s always something slightly unkempt about my appearance no matter what, this fucking Substack, it’s clear as day. And I can live with that. I am a Hannah. And I’m not ashamed. After all, it could be worse. I could be a Jessa.

House proud

New favourite celebrity home has dropped courtesy of Julio Torres and Architectural Digest.

Sure, the womb room is a little impractical. How do you dust it? But it still beats millennial grey.

God. I need to sell a TV show to HBO.

🧘🏼‍♀️ SWEETIE HATES 🧘🏼‍♀️

Rude!

I’ve been having a series of strange interactions with baristas over the last six months or so. I get a takeaway coffee every day with full fat milk, because it tastes better and also I’m a bad person. Where baristas used to ask me, “Oat milk?” and I would shake my head nay, that is no longer the case. My milk profile has changed. Baristas across the city are asking, nay, assuming that I want skinny milk.

It’s an epidemic. Even a regular barista has changed course. “Skinny, right?” He has asked three times now. “Full. Fat.” I reply. I feel my right eye twitch every time as I politely course correct. At one cafe they didn’t even ask, they just assumed and added skinny milk on their own volition. I accepted and threw it down my gullet, wincing with every sip, swearing to never go back.

I don’t want skinny milk. I don’t like skinny milk. And most of all, I don’t like the implication. Do YOU think I should want skinny milk? Do YOU think I NEED skinny milk? And WHY? Are women in their 30’s not ALLOWED to have full fat milk? WHY does saying “skinny milk” have to feel so GOOD to SAY?

Even if I did like it, the idea of ordering anything with the word “skinny” in it makes me feel seasick. Skinny milk, skinny margaritas, or bootcut jeans from Bethenny Frankel’s Skinny Girl brand? That’s lowkey embarrassing.

Roe Jogan

A clip from the 80’s of Joe Rogan doing stand up has been pinging around the internet.

People are making fun of him for not being funny ever, OK duh, but I'm not here to talk about shallow things like that. I’m here to talk about his looks.

It’s shocking it is how… beautiful, even ethereal, Joe Rogan used to be. He looks like a Levi’s model. He looks like he plays Peter Pan at kids' parties. He looks like the nicest server at an intimidating restaurant. He looks like he’s a floor manager of Zara. He looks like he’d play Charlotte’s love interest for exactly one episode of Sex and the City.

Genuinely curious, how can one person’s appearance change so drastically like this? And if you do know, can you please let me know, so I can, umm, go in another direction?

Buying clothes

Does anyone know a place that sells clothes that fit well on an adult human body and feel nice and don’t have weird cutouts or necklines or raw hems and are not made of shitty fabric? Does that exist? Under £300? I’m starting to think not!