Five Things (8.7.26)

1. The first week of August has come and gone—as is customary for time to do—and yet somehow, this year seems to move quicker than every other before. In the blink of an eye, I’ve finished charting Q4 for clients and reviewing Holiday 2026 pitch decks as an editor, yet cannot seem to remember what I did for myself. All I have to show from these past few months are a pile of receipts from sprees fueled by acquisitiveness and anxiety. Logistically, it makes no sense. Logically, however, it does. If all that is good in the world—art, literature, taste—is on the brink of extinction, is it not my civic duty to preserve what I can?

2. One such acquisition: baby’s first pair of Margiela Tabis. Not the classic flats, but the little mules made in the likeness of ballerina slippers—elastic strap and all. I’ve resisted the hoofed shoe for nearly two decades despite finding them curiously chic during my Tumblr days, but at the time couldn’t afford them (I was a teenager) and later on, couldn’t afford to be seen as too different (something I’ve touched before). I still think I’m not cool enough to fully pull of the Tabi, and always need to rally a bit of internal strength to wear them with confidence, but they’re incredibly comfortable—and the daintier silhouette (which shows more skin than shoe) is easier to integrate into my wardrobe than the full flat.

I particularly love them with what might be perceived as “sexier” outfits. Tabis may have become more mainstream with the TikTokification of fashion subculture, but in reality, they still add the perfect dose of “weirdness” to offset the slinky.

3. There was a brief period when I thought I’d grown tired of fragrance, despite it being such a large part of—and catalyst for—my life and career. Some level of disenchantment is inevitable, unfortunately; the moment any good thing shows potential for profitability, capitalism sinks its talons and refuses to let go until its prey bleeds dry. Amidst this unprecedented industry boom, countless new perfumes have been thrust into my face and under my nose as both editor and consumer—much of which lacked soul, artistry, and perspective. Yet just as I was beginning to lose faith in the very thing that reinspired my own creativity, August brought a wave of launches that have restored my love for the craft. Brands like Jouissance and Discothèque, which invest in immersive world-building—and are founded by people with impeccable, self-assured taste—are enough reason to keep smelling, writing, collecting. The new Dries Van Noten, too! (I’ll be writing about that one, soon.)

4. I have been lucky in love all my life—platonic and romantic—but it’s only because I was so fortunate to have been raised with the fortitude to set high standards. It’s not because I’m some romantic idealist: I’m so staunchly feminist that misguided men and women might label me a misandrist (to which I say, so what?), but there are good men. Never settle. Never stay for potential, or a hope that he’ll change. (He won’t—and you won’t even realize you will.) There is someone out there who will meet you where you are. Someone will build you a desk to write all your dreams upon, or go rifling through bins to find vintage, novelty Avon bottles because you love perfume—and above all, will cherish you through thick and thin.

5. There! Is! No! Such! Thing! As! Imposter! Syndrome!

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xx