A Nod to Sylvia Plath...
For all the things we want.
We all have our strange ways. Little quirks that defy logic or reason, yet persistently linger. I’ve always been oddly fastidious that my Instagram feed should only ever feature my own content, with no reposting or sharing of anything that is not of my own making. It’s one of those arbitrary rules I made up and then couldn’t seem to unmake.
That said, I remain a faithful ‘pinner’ and still lament the demise of Tumblr. Spaces where we collectively share lovely or inspiring things are so joyful for my brain.
From 2019 until fairly recently, I shared something I called Midweek Mood on my Instagram stories - a curated grid of 12 images I’d liked or saved on the app.
Every Wednesday, like clockwork, I’d post four or five of these collages.
Meticulously arranging them to find the right composition felt like a way of slowing down my online consumption, engaging more deliberately, noticing emerging themes, and curating satisfying combinations, rather than just double-tapping and scrolling on.
I then recently stumbled across this extract above from the journals of Sylvia Plath and thought ‘OH GIRL, ME TOO’. My Goodreads app ‘to read’ list is overwhelmingly hefty - never mind the actual physical stack of books precariously balanced in a terrifyingly towering tsundoku on my bedside table.
A quick skim through my search history would reveal near-daily searches for sun-soaked Italian beaches nestled against lustrous green mountainsides. Charming French villages with sun-bleached blue shutters and voluminous barns brimming with flea-market treasures. And, of course, bougie-as-fuck resorts that I frankly have no business pretending fall within my tax bracket.
I want to live and experience it all - to know more, see more, taste more. I want to sink my teeth into life and take greedy bites until the juice runs down my chin.
So, with all that appetite in mind, I’ve decided to serve up something fresh in this little corner of the internet I’m carving out. I’m not setting strict rules for what it has to be (lesson learned from the Instagram feed!) just a space for sharing whatever I’m reading, watching, smelling, tasting, or feeling inspired by. Hopefully, you’ll find something here that lifts your spirits or sparks your curiosity too.
I love an impromptu cinema trip. My very first job was in a cinema, which might explain why I feel so at ease slipping into those red velvet rows and letting a couple of uninterrupted hours drift by.
So when we got caught in the rain last week, ducking into The Duke of York for a spontaneous viewing of Wes Anderson’s The Phoenician Scheme beat fumbling with an umbrella!
The film delivered all the quirks, visually pleasing symmetry, and signature camera pans we’ve come to expect, along with his usual ensemble cast of familiar faces, including a welcome new addition - Mia Threapleton, daughter of Kate Winslet.
While I’m still on the fence about the story, I was completely swept away by the visuals. His films always feel akin to theatre productions to me. I felt similarly in two minds after seeing The French Dispatch - dizzying on first watch, but after a few replays, it has become a firm favourite. Maybe this one just needs time to marinate too?
I’m decidedly not on the fence however, when it comes to two of my favourite summertime classics - the 1958 adaptation of Françoise Sagan’s Bonjour Tristesse, starring an elfin Jean Seberg, and 1969’s La Piscine, featuring the queen of cool herself, Jane Birkin. Anything featuring the Nouvelles Femmes will always pique my interest to be honest!
And whilst we haven’t booked one of those aforementioned sun-soaked holidays just yet, you can bet when we do I’ll be on the hunt for a red swimsuit to pair with an oversized blue shirt - channelling the immaculate poolside vibes of Seberg’s Cécile.
I recently had one of the best meals of my life - I know, a bold statement, but it’s absolutely up there in the top five! Dalla is a neighbourhood Italian restaurant nestled on the corner of Morning Lane in Hackney. Dreamy interiors aside, everything we consumed during our long and leisurely lunch (taking sanctuary from the humidity outside!) was nothing short of sublime.
Special mention to the damson sorbet, which can only be described as the taste of an English hedgerow in high summer. Tart and sweet in equal measure, with a whisper of something green and earthy, like crushed blackberry leaves or a trace of nettle. It blew my mind if I’m being completely frank.
In May, I finished reading Julie & Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously by Julie Powell - you might know it from the 2009 film adaptation starring a pitch-perfect Meryl Streep as the ebullient Julia Child (and Stanley Tucci looking rather delicious as her adoring husband Paul) as she tackled learning French cooking as an American living in Paris.
Powell cooked and blogged her way through Child’s subsequent Mastering the Art of French Cooking, even tackling the many (and often questionable) aspic recipes along the way!
After thoroughly enjoying this read - savoury jellies notwithstanding - I’ve just picked up a copy of My Life in France, Julia Child’s own autobiography. I’m excited to dive in, especially with our own trip to Paris coming up later this month. Bon Appétit!
I’m probably the last person on the internet to ‘discover’ Deborah Levy, yet suffice to say I’ve fallen hard. So far, the second in her trilogy of memoirs ‘The Cost of Living’ has been my favourite, but I’m also currently reading and enjoying ‘The Position of Spoons’ - a collection of essays and musings that are beautifully intimate and tender.
Lastly, though perhaps light on words, I’m currently coveting Sofia Coppola’s latest tome - a gorgeously curated exploration of her 1999 film adaptation of Jeffrey Eugenides’ The Virgin Suicides. Full of dreamy, hazy moments from the Lisbon sisters’ ill-fated summer, many of which were captured through the singular lens of the late, great Corinne Day.
It’s the sort of book I feel I’d return to again and again for inspiration - much like old back issues of Lula magazine, which, equally ethereal and girlish, still hold their wonder nearly twenty years after launching.
Though his name is certainly familiar, and I may have even seen some of his works in person at galleries over the years - I’ve recently discovered the art of American modernist painter Milton Avery which feels surprisingly fresh and exciting.
I’ve been leisurely scrolling my way through his paintings, and so far, I find myself most drawn to his works from 1945. The colours are bold and immediate, yet balanced, simple, and almost serene.
If you happen to find yourself strolling through Soho with time on your side, I thoroughly recommend popping in to see the impressive patchwork house that currently stands in the East Gallery in Liberty as part of The Patchwork Collective celebrating 150 years of Liberty London.
I ended up visiting twice over two days - it’s an incredible feat of craftsmanship and care. Do make sure you take the time to look through the sample binders too, some of the submitted pieces in them took my breath away with how intricate and precise they were! Anyone who has attempted patchwork will know what a true labour of love it is!
There are also two exhibitions I’m eager to catch - the upcoming Yoshitomo Nara retrospective at the Southbank Centre opens June 10th, and is sure to be a throwback to my art college era, where I doodled sassy, scowling Nara tributes on the inside cover of my ring binder (remember those?!)
Cecil Beaton’s Garden Party is now open at the Garden Museum - curated by Emma House and designed by the imitable Luke Edward Hall, it’s sure to be a lavish thrill for the senses - I’m hoping there might even be a costume or two from My Fair Lady!
Sometimes you find a brand and it’s just EXACTLY what you want to be wearing - Posse have created exactly that very sensation with the impeccable styling of their simple but very feminine cotton and linen pieces.
As an ardent fan of bloomers - gimme gimme gimme!
Also ranking high on the old wishlist are the delicately ethereal, vitreous creations of Justine Menard.
I discovered her achingly tender work through a recent collaboration with the Spanish brand Cordera - and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Her pieces feel timeless, as light as breath. The real question is: how well would something so fragile hold up, pinned to one of my vintage blazer jackets?
I hope you’ve enjoyed the first instalment of all the lovely things that I’ve been noticing, I hope there was something new to you in there too!
I’ve enjoyed spending time reflecting on the things that I’m dedicating my attention to - and welcome any of your recommendations in the comments box to keep the flow going!
I loved this! Thank you for the reminder of the blue shirt over the red swimsuit because YES that is my dream summer wardrobe - especially when she has the shirt tied up! So good!
I’d also recommend the book of Paul Childs’ photos (I can’t remember the name) because there are some great ones of Julia during their relationship. I also did the same and went down the Julie and Julia rabbit hole after watching the film!