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Three nights in Vegas, baby!

We arrived on Thursday night and made our way to the Arts District for dinner and a visit to the Neon Boneyard, which was my #1 Vegas must-do. It did not disappoint!

I circled the yard several times, toasting my retinas on the blinking blaze of kitschy color and listening to the low hum that pervaded throughout. It was a gorgeously eerie place. We stayed till they closed.

We watched the Bellagio fountain a second time, and then I went back to the room early instead of staying out for cocktails. Really, I prefer the simple things.

“New York friendships are an education in the struggle between devotion to the melancholy and attraction to the expressive.”

“Once again, as it has with irregular regularity throughout my waking life, that sickening sense of language buried deep within comes coursing through arms, legs, chest, throat. If only I could make it reach the brain, the conversation with myself might perhaps begin.”

“The daydreaming, it seemed, had occupied more space than I’d ever imagined. It was as though the majority of my waking time had routinely been taken up with fantasizing, only a norrow portion of consciousness concentrated on the here and now.”

“Ever since I could remember, I had feared being found wanting. If I did the work I wanted to do, it was certain not to measure up; if I pursued the people I wanted to know, I was bound to be rejected; if I made myself as attractive as I could, I would still be ordinary looking. Around such damages to the ego a shrinking psyche had formed itself: I applied myself to my work, but only grudgingly; I’d make one move toward people I liked, but never two; I wore makeup but dressed badly. To do any or all of these things well would have been to engage heedlessly with life—love it more than I loved my fears—and this I could not do. What I could do, apparently, was daydream the years away: go on yearning for "things” to be different so that I would be different.“

"I felt my eyes turning inward, toward that thick white opacity that surrounds my heart when it comes to erotic love. ’I can’t do men,’ I said.”

On [redacted day of the week], I went to Poster House. Yet another NYC treasure that I somehow haven’t visited until now! I’m righting so many wrongs in my life this year.

Visited just in time to see two great exhibitions: one on environmental crisis posters and the other on art deco influence in ‘30s and '40s advertisements. I appreciated the exhibit labels just as much as the objects on display — you can always get a feel for a museum’s personality through reading those little plaques, and I felt that this one was quite simpatico.

They have a cafe and great little gift shop, too.

Afterward, I went right around the corner to NY Cake. It’s the go-to shop for baking-industry professionals.

I went mainly to ogle the rainbow sprinkle section and inhale the Valrhona-scented air. As much as I wanted to buy some sort of recherchĂŠ ingredient or confectionary gizmo, today was not going to be the day.

My spinster outings usually have no rhyme or reason beyond an ineffable urge to overpack my bag and just sally forth, but that’s not what brought me to midtown on this [redacted day of the week]. No, today was planned entirely around procuring the two-part salad you see above, courtesy of the newest fast-casual joint on the block.

Truly, there’s no such thing as free lunch. This one cost me two hours and a not-insignificant amount of my sanity. Also, my order was incorrect. Steve Ells, if you’re reading this, I have notes.

As you might be able to tell, I ate this in Madison Square Park, with Shake Shack in my peripherals and its greasy char wafting through the air. I had to will myself not to immediately order a second lunch after eating this one so I could have some protein in my system.

Thankfully, I was able to placate my cravings with rhinestones, polyester, and arty nudes.

It took an Elton John closet clean-out to get me to Christie’s for the first time! I can understand why I’ve never been here — the auction house is in the center of tourist hell, directly across from Rockefeller Center. And we keep incompatible hours, so I could only be here on a [redacted day of the week].

But! What a treat to explore the collection of my teenage idol. (No joke — my best friend and I shot a completely unironic tribute music video to “Crocodile Rock” in high school and I wore out my vinyl copy of Don’t Shoot Me, I’m Only the Piano Player.)

Apparently, Gianni Versace was a good friend of Elton’s, so there were many hypnotically serpentine motifs to stare into. Fun fact about the shirts! You can’t bid on just one — they’re a package deal.

It was impossible to get a good picture of his 1990 Bentley convertible, which is, to be sure, one of the crown jewels of the collection.

But the scent of leather emanating from this exact vantage point was so potent, I couldn’t move until I felt sufficiently buzzed from the desiccated musk.

On Saturday, the sun came out for the first time in weeks. Because it was still just a bit too cold for the bike, I jumped on the subway, eager for a proper spinster-y adventure.

My original plan was to venture all the way down to Fong On in the LES to try their exquisite-sounding tofu pudding, but I started to feel kind of stressed out on the train for some reason. I got off early and decided to keep my outing confined to the UES instead. Luckily, there was lots to see.

I headed to the Grolier Club first. It’s a New York society club dedicated to the love of books—yes, really!

As their website states, “The Grolier Club’s purpose is to foster the study, collecting, appreciation, and celebration of books, works on paper, and their related arts and crafts, particularly their art, history, production, circulation, and commerce.”

Admission to their two galleries is free to the public. Their ground-floor exhibition (just days away from closing) was collection of bookbindings from the 15th-21st centuries.

The book on the far right reads “One Hundred Books Famous in Typography,” and it was made by Jerry Kelly in 2021.

According to the exhibition catalogue, the insect embroidered on the cover is a bark beetle that bears the Latin name Ips typographus. They make creepy centipede-looking markings inside trees.

The top floor exhibition showcased notable works of detective fiction from one of the Club members’ personal collections.

After that, I walked uptown to check out the New York Society Library. They also have a gallery that’s free and open to the public and a reading room which was quite grand.

It was unclear if I was allowed to go into this reading room, but I did. I sat in a plush armchair next to a romantically large and drafty window and finished my current chapter of Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking.

Then, I walked even further north to the French Embassy, which is right across from The Met (I did debate whether or not to go to The Met this day, but I’m glad I didn’t). I was there to check out the little French bookstore inside called Albertine.

This bookstore is famed on the internet for one of its rooms having this very beautiful starry ceiling. And like most things you find on the internet then see in real life, it was kind of a “huh, cool,” moment, and then that’s it. I probably won’t be back, but I did enjoy hearing all the French speakers. Makes me want to go back to Montreal.

Then, onto the Cooper-Hewitt, just in time for their pay-as-you-wish hour to begin at 5 p.m. I admit that by this point, I was a quite fried and not able to take in much new information. I didn’t spend much time communing with the works of Dorothy Liebes, sadly.

After this, I waited an absurdly long time for the N train (I was having some really wonky train experiences this day), then ordered Taverna Kyclades for takeout en route home and enjoyed it back at my kitchen table.

It’s totally possible to have a full day of culture out in the city that doesn’t cost very much money. This has been the game I’ve been playing lately.

Interviewer: In preparing for our talk, I read all of the interviews you’ve given about the Index, and I noticed that sometimes you get questions about your beauty routine, your workout routine, or your diet. And as we know, social-media algorithms are written to privilege certain kinds of content – such as selfies – over others. So how do we navigate that while identifying as cyberfeminists?

Mindy Seu: Either way, it feels like a performance. When you have these interviews that focus solely on the work, you’re performing an intellectualized identity. And when interviewers ask about very personal things, it’s like they’re trying to humanize or make more accessible this intellectualized person. I don’t mind those sorts of questions – we can talk in depth about media theory, then pivot just as quickly to reality TV. I also think that if someone reads an interview that asks about skincare, and that leads them to our book and makes them question how they use Instagram, that’s kind of a win: There are all sorts of different entry points into this space. Again, it’s a matter of the intended function or behavior, versus ways we can subvert that towards some other call to action. And if those invitations come from glitches or breaking points, that’s even better.

(via Spike Magazine)

A perfect spinster date on a Friday night.

I journeyed up to West 75th street to have the restaurant week prix-fixe at Pepperdella. The last time I was here was close to a decade ago. I was with my mom and we’d just come from visiting the butterfly conservatory at the Natural History Museum. It was the first time I’d had pappardelle pasta and anything with truffle in it. That same dish is still on the menu, but I didn’t get it this time.

The food was just right. I relished the white chocolate brioche pudding with amarena cherries and fiore de latte gelato.

And then I walked down to Lincoln Center and saw Vertigo with the NY Philharmonic’s live score accompaniment. It was my first time sitting in tier 3, which I actually highly recommend. I almost shelled out big $$$ for floor seats, and I’m so glad I didn’t. If you sit on the far sides of the top tier, you won’t have anyone sitting next to you, and aside from a partial obstruction of the screen in one corner, you’ll have a perfect overhead view.

Appreciated the film’s gorgeous set design, costumes, and of course, the music. What a treat.

We’re not even a full month in, and this is, I’m telling you right now, the best book I’ll read all year.

What did you do on the night that Melanie died?

I was in the East Village, being spontaneous and agreeing to a change in plans. Waiting for Marie to travel from work, I ate dinner at Veselka (mushroom + sauerkraut pierogis w/ matzo ball soup ofc), and then took myself for a drink at The Immigrant.

No photos of this place, but I highly recommend. Great “waiting for a friend” or just “sitting alone with my thoughts” spot. It opened in 2009, so it’s been here almost as long as I have. No loud music. Bustling, but not busy. Good twinkly-light atmosphere. Would return.

Marie arrived, and we decamped to the Holiday Cocktail Lounge.

I was totally crashing this event, which was a meetup that her colleague was throwing for photographers and visual creatives. But it was SO FUN. Any networking event that includes the hostess sabering a bottle of Moet, then pouring it into a champagne tower is one that I’d gleefully attend.

More of this in 2024.

I left much later than I’d planned to, and I was tired for the next two days because being awake way past 10pm threw my sleep off, but I felt so happy. I will always love how nights out in the East Village place me back into timeless, ageless joy.

There was a feeling I had often in my early/mid-twenties that I called “the cusp of life,” and I felt it that night. This is why I live in New York.

Fab night & morning spent with a favorite friend. She brought me an epic bouquet, and I baked her a cake.

I made Yossy Arefi’s Simple Sesame Cake (which is a standard for me at this point) and I was going to top it with her freeze-dried strawberry icing —  but I learned, unfortunately, that freeze-dried fruit goes bad! I had an old bag in my pantry that I hadn’t touched since early 2022. Wow.

So I riffed up a different icing: 95g confectioner’s sugar, 1 tbsp whole milk, ¼ tsp pumpkin pie spice, 1 tbsp Skrewball peanut-butter whiskey (yes really).

Reader, it was a triumph. This cake may not last another 48 hours because of it, I am DEAD serious.

le-corbustier