Katy Perry Crying, Scary Ocean, Rat Slaps 🥲
This is the part of me that you’re never gonna eva take away from meeeeee
Hiiiiii,
Guess what? I’ve been fighting off a cold alllllllllllllll week. Fascinating stuff — thinking of putting up a billboard to let the world know about the whole thing to be honest.Â
Here’s your SWEETIE Weekly.Â
👑 SWEETIE RATES 👑
This scene from Part Of Me
At an event where I was supposed to be networking with important movers and shakers, I would and could not stop talking about this one scene from Part of Me, a 2012 documentary about Katy Perry’s California Dreams Tour. To me, I was giving everyone a dazzling masterclass in the art of conversation. To a friend who bore witness, horrified, I was making a fool of myself. I still, arrogantly, do not believe her because I got asked out via LinkedIn the next day — but that’s not the point of the story.Â
I also repeated my advocacy for this particular scene shortly after at a 30th birthday party I wasn’t exactly invited to — where it was more favourably received. Thank God. I am an advocate for this documentary mostly because of one particular scene. It’s a raw microcosm of pure heartbreak.Â
This one scene encompasses so much of the pain and performance of being a woman, of showing up as your best self despite carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Of course, the stakes are a little higher for Katy as she goes in front of an audience of tens of thousands of people in Brazil, whereas I am trying not to cry on the Overground.Â
When staring down the barrel of a life-changing blow, Katy charges up her cream bra, gets on her podium and boots the house down yaas hunty slay serving gagging living for it WIG whatever. And I eat it up every time!Â
She dodged a bullet anyway — Russell Brand has pivoted to espousing alt-right conspiracy theories and Katy is free to make international earworms for a food delivery company and chill out on a paddleboard in Italy with a nude Orlando Bloom. Who won?
Also, remember when Russell publicly tweeted this pic of her despite her begging him not to? That was already grounds for divorce tbh. Sometimes the trash takes itself out!Â
Molly Lewis
Like many others this week, I was alerted to Molly via this tweet about her opening act for Weyes Blood’s North America tour. I was mesmerised. I’m sure you will be too.
How can you say so much with a simple, lilting whistle? No I mean it, I’m really asking. How the hell does she do that? Physically? She effortlessly wades through melancholy and sweetness, romance and nostalgia with the strength of her whistling alone.Â
I wish Angelo Badalamenti was still here (RIP) because a collaboration between them would be heavenly.Â
The Deep Sea
One of my favourite things to do is to think about the ocean and get really scared. I’m on r/thalassophobia, I’m watching great white shark compilation videos on YouTube and three years after its creation I still love The Deep Sea and visit it frequently.
I love to scroll down and start getting so panicked that I feel like I can’t breathe. I feel just like James Cameron 🙂 It’s so stunning to know exactly how far down I have to go in the ocean to find a Lizardfish when I’m in a pinch (3504 metres).Â
There are also so many fun facts — about the lifespan of Orange Roughys, the size and weight capacity of Colossal Squids, what the hell marine snow is, the Hadal Zone.Â
The ocean really shouldn’t be able to go that far down, I don’t know who ever said that that was OK. Suffice to say, I do not go more than waist deep at the beach.Â
🤡 SWEETIE HATES 🤡
People standing in the street
What is it about eating brunch that makes people decide to idle in groups of four to six, smack bang in the middle of the path? It’s as though the consumption of overpriced eggs and coffee somehow renders people completely effete in the midst of the world around them. MOVE.Â
I already lament the organisation of the streets in L*ndon — there is no set preference as to whether you walk on the left or right hand side of the path, so it’s constant chaos. Throw in a bunch of nepotism freelance Art Directors with hand rolled ciggies and a shaking Italian Greyhound standing directly in the middle of the path and I’m ragin’.Â
Get those Acne scarves and fresh-put-the-box Salomons the fuck outta my way. I have squirrels to go look at and I do NOT want to be inconvenienced while I’m on my merry way. The worst part is when you have to take a little step onto the literal road to get around them. Humiliating. Demoralising. Death, to all of them.
This guy
This man is a literal domestic terrorist.Â
I always go into these insipid You Be The Judge quarrels and unfailingly emerge with:
A dislike of both parties
Heart palpitations
Rage
A renewed fear of commitment
Not this time. As a regular sleeper myself I know this well — you do NOT mess with someone else’s slumber. Wilmer, you will see the fist of true vengeance as I lower it upon you.
Rats have a slap fight
Now this is just heartbreaking. It’s always sad to see two strong, beautiful and soft little ladies be pitted against each other for the sake of our entertainment.Â
And to see this during the week of International Women’s Day, no less… I’m sick to my stomach.Â
Bye for now clown xx