Happy Friday!
Spring seems to have sprung more suddenly than usual this year, and I smell mildly of self-tanner as I type today. Leandra Medine called that scent ”dirty beach” in her confession that she loves the stuff this week at Man Repeller. Like Leandra, I cherish teenage memories of self tanning experiments gone wrong, but have since embraced a more credible bottled glow. As I look down at legs the color of an uncooked chicken, I’m not ashamed to say I need all the help I can get.
So for the last three mornings, I’ve slathered on a layer of Jergens’ Natural Glow Moisturizer, a drugstore standby I’ve depended on for years now. Its effects are far more subtle than a serious self-tanner (for that I’ll reach for Tan Towels) but I like to think it rids my legs of any resemblance to poultry. One step at a time.
“Spring is not easy.” These words stopped my thumb as I scrolled through Instagram earlier this week. Beneath a photograph of cherry blossoms against a bright blue sky, they were the first line of a short verse written by my colleague at Quartz, Annalisa Merelli. I was struck by their elegant expression of an unpopular opinion: The transition to spring can be a bear.
I’ve since discovered that Annalisa’s caption was part of a longer poem—an unlikely ode to spring, posed as a case against this “most violent of seasons.”
The case against Spring
by Annalisa MerelliThen, like every year, comes the light.
Through the fire escape,
past your poor, brave plants, it sneaks into the living room
one inch at a time. It conquers the glass top of your counterfeit designer coffee table,
highlights the shoddy edges
twinkles on the particles of dust on that Georgia O’Keeffe book you didn’t even flip through.It is a light so perfect we found a way to store it.
It’s daylight saving time; everybody: it’s spring time.Blooming, sprouting, pollinating,
spring is the most violent of seasons.
Cherry blossoms, scent of magnolia—these are but a disguise,
hot pink, yellow camouflage for an impetuous burst of life.
Like being born, falling in love, spring is explosion, it’s trauma,
petals prying buds open, insects crawling out of eggs,
loud birds chirping their days away
all this life
forcing itself onto every last motionless winter leftover
commanding excitement, demanding action.Aimless, enormous, forceful
rebellious thoughts, half baked ideas
unnecessary additions
to the maze-like list of lists of to-do lists
in which
you are, forever stuck.
“Spring is not easy.”
You learnt it at 20.
An elegant doctor taught you, who smiled through her glasses
as she offered you droplets of Xanax
twenty at a time
once every year
a magic potion to make the season turn.Though as you toss and turn and curl
you still like
that the dandelions smile
as you wonder if it’s too soon to give up tights,
eager to label your discomfort a wardrobe malfunction
to shed a layer,
and drag your naked thighs
towards the merciful relief of summer’s sweat.
I’ve always considered myself a fan of spring, but found Annalisa’s verses captured a sense of unpreparedness—anxiety, even—I’ve felt this year, returning home from two weeks of travel to trees in full blossom, a half-furnished house, and sundresses in storage bins. I felt grateful for the reminder that rebirths, however beautiful, can be traumatic, and transitions affect us all differently. I’ve been trying to take it easy on myself in the meantime. If the spring cleaning waits a little longer, so be it.
I’ve recently discovered The Katering Show, a hilarious YouTube cooking series now in its second season, hosted by two Australian women named Kate. One Kate is fructose and glucose intolerant, and the other describes herself as just plain intolerant, with “clinically diagnosed control issues.”
Together, they take the piss out of food trends such as the paleo diet and social media-friendly food porn. (“Seriously, fuck how it tastes. It’s about decanting some soft drink into a mustard jar wrapped with weeds and shoelaces.”) I found Kate and Kate as I was researching the Thermomix—an internet-famous super-appliance that’s like an Instant Pot, Kitchen-Aid mixer, sous vide machine, bread machine, and iPhone rolled into one. More on my Thermomix adventures (and misadventures) to come.
A Jeff Koons Easter bunny? For the bargain price of $585, Louis Vuitton will now sell you a leather keychain by the world’s most expensive living artist, in the shape of an inflatable rabbit. Koons and Louis Vuitton collaborated on a collection of handbags emblazoned with classic works of art such as da Vinci’s Mona Lisa and Titian’s Cupid, along with gold letters spelling out the original artists’ name, plus little dangling leather bunnies. It’s a lot.
These bags challenge conventional notions about art, accessibility, and the very concept of good taste. But they also make me smile, because, really, WTF? If you’re equally amused, you can tumble down the rabbit hole with Carl Swanson’s 2013 profile of the artist—an adventure in “the Koons empire, an earnest and well-capitalized toy-chest kingdom”—for New York Magazine.
Have a great weekend!
[quartzy-signature]
This Sunday is Easter, and for Food52, the North Carolina-based baker Emma Laperruque has shared how to make naturally dyed, totally edible, Technicolor pickled Easter eggs. Beets and turmeric lend the pink and yellow eggs their colors, but it’s the blue—derived from red cabbage—that will delight the food science nerds among you. For more of a purply hue, Emma advises tinkering with the pH level of your vinegar pickle-dye bath: “It will fizz and fuss, but that’s just right.” Happy Easter!