the problem is, you don’t know what you want.

it was a 90 degree day in north carolina, the type of day where even the trees appear to be sweating. i had long given up on my hair and thrown it into a low ponytail; my white cotton tank clung to my back. the woman across from me had ten years on me, maybe a bit more, and seemed entirely unfazed by the heat, the humidity, and the tiny flies that swarmed around us, ready to feast on our salty sweat.

as our car had pulled into the grey hawk, a local bar and outdoor restaurant in lake lure, where our new york contingent was visiting friends for a long weekend, i’d spotted the tarot tent and yelped with glee.

oooh! tarot! who’s going to do it with me?!

i was in what i myself had christened “the boys car” (i had chosen it not because it was the boys car but because it was the car that always stopped off at ingles, the local grocery store, after the day’s activities, and i love nothing more than a suburban grocery store run). not a one of them took the bait. on the contrary, my friend bruce cackled, then coughed out my name: ha! sarah!

while they beelined for the bar, i booked it to the tarot tent, then waited patiently for a good ten minutes while the intuitive advisor talked a couple through their communication styles and what the cards showed them about their past, present, and future.

when they finished and i plopped down, i felt a wave of anxiety. what if she told me something i didn’t want to hear? i glanced behind me, spotted my friends circled around a table, tapping their feet in time to the live music. i’d asked bruce to get me a minty, cucumber-y mocktail. it wasn’t too late to bail.

what would you like to learn about yourself? the advisor asked me. gently, kindly, with a wide, warm smile, as though she knew i was nervous.

i giggled.

i know this is a cliche but…romantic love?

like a teenager going through puberty, my voice went up at the end of the sentence. love? as though it was a question.

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i’m writing you from a cabin in north carolina, where i’ve flown for a long weekend. it’s 7:41am on saturday, and much of the cabin is quiet. only two of us—the early birds, the ones who are always up at this time—are awake; the rest of our crew is sleeping. i’ve got a cup of freshly brewed coffee at my side, and the whir of the ceiling fans above. the cabin is dark in the mornings, surrounded as it is by lush, mountain-y trees. when i turned off my rain sounds this morning, i could hear birds chirping out my window. it’s (sadly) much too hot to sleep with the windows open, but still: i know they’re there. yesterday morning, we crowded onto the back porch to watch a mama deer and two of the tiniest babies i’d ever seen (the size of small cats!) trek their way across the broad river, which flows through my friends’ backyard.

it is the type of peace and quiet i rarely get in new york, the type that always makes me introspective. for a brief moment this morning, i contemplated skipping this weekend’s newsletter. i want to go on a run before we set out for the day, there are only so many hours of daylight, etc. etc. but then i realized: i had something i wanted to write about this week. and so here i sit, tapping away at my keyboard in the quiet of the early morning, as i so often spend my saturday mornings doing.

i had intended, actually, to write a good portion of this week’s newsletter on the flight down. but then i got to my seat, and realized i was seated next to a kind, slightly cute stranger. he was one of many tall men on our flight (are the men taller in north carolina?!), so tall that he practically unfolded his body in stages from his aisle seat when i gestured at the window and said, this is me. when we sat back down, i gestured at the giant brace around his right knee, and asked if he’d had surgery recently. he nodded, then proceeded to tell me he’d injured it playing basketball, that it was so recent that three weeks ago, when he’d flown to new york for work on a company-purchased business seat, they’d had to downgrade him to delta comfort after his “keep it straight at all times” brace made it nearly impossible for him to fit anywhere comfortably.

in other words, it was complete and utter luck that he happened to be seated next to me. he should have been in first. he’d only ended up in comfort because it gave him the space he needed to extend his injured knee.

i intended to spend the flight writing the newsletter. but instead, i spent it talking to him.

we talked about how he’d left the upper west side for charlotte a few years ago, but was returning to the city in september. we talked about the trip he and his brother had intended to take to chile, and how it was probably on pause because he’d only recently been cleared to bend his knee, let alone ski on it. we talked about how lucky i was that my trips “made it out of the group chat.” about north carolina and the cabin and the fantastic itinerary my friends had planned for the new york contingent. we talked about my house swap in paris, and my upcoming trip to sardinia. we talked about my apartment in new york, and my job writing silly pharmaceutical commercials; how it’s a little bit soul-sucking but sometimes really special. we talked about his job in finance, about what “M&A” actually means, about how many spreadsheets he makes a day and whether he truly needs to be in the office to make them.

every time i felt a lull in the conversation, a familiar voice popped into my head:

take out your kindle. open your laptop. he’s been humoring you, but he’s done now.

that voice isn’t so much unkind as it is realistic. a voice shaped by decades of experience. a voice that knows that even when the conversation flows, even when someone seems interested, quite often, they are not. quite often, they will not, when push comes to shove, choose me. generally speaking, as my story goes, they will choose the louder, friendlier, prettier person. the one who lights up the room instead of fading into the background. the one who knows she is a prize and acts accordingly.

for much of my life, the story i told myself was that i was unchosen. that i would always be unchosen. with this in mind, i acted accordingly.

but lately, i have been dipping my toes into warmer water. testing out the theory that maybe—just maybe—the story i have been telling myself is untrue.

and wouldn’t you know: every time i felt a lull in the conversation, he kept it rolling. so much so that there really were no lulls. so much so that i looked up, and the captain was on the loudspeaker telling flight attendants to prepare the cabin for landing. we bounced our way onto the tarmac, then unclipped our seatbelts. i told him my suitcase was one row behind us, and—injured leg and all—he lifted it from the overhead bin in one fell swoop. as we stood there waiting to deplane, the voice returned.

and i told it to hush. because what, truly, did i have to lose? there was a high likelihood i’d never see his face again.

it was really great to meet you, i said. can i give you my number? you can text me when you move back to the city.

as he fumbled for his phone, the voice returned.

only if you want to. no pressure.

he handed me his phone, opened a blank text, and handed it to me.

i tapped my number in, then handed it back to him. a moment later, my phone dinged with two texts in quick succession: his full name, and then, 9C.

it would be lovely and thrilling to tell you we’ve been texting ever since.

the truth is i haven’t heard from him since i replied with my own name. upon further googling, i’ve figured out that he’s likely quite a bit younger than me—likely too young. perhaps he googled me and figured that out. perhaps he was—like the voice always tells me—just being nice. perhaps he simply likes chatting with strangers. perhaps i imagined the vibe, overestimated the ease of the conversational flow.

but you know what? it doesn’t matter. because either way, that flight served as yet another experience that disproves the story i’ve long told myself. it is a moment—or rather, a collection of moments, 80 minutes worth of moments—that quiets the voice.

maybe someday, i’ll be able to silence it entirely.

lest you think the voice only pops in relation to romance, let me assure you.

the voice worms its way into other places and spaces, too.

case in point: yesterday, my friends and i hiked 500 stairs up to the tippity top of chimney rock, a lookout point so tall that on a clear day, you can see all the way to tennessee. there is also an elevator one can take, and the night before, i contemplated: should i opt for the

stairs? 500 steps seemed like a lot of steps. what if i couldn’t do it?! turns out, it was not—as i was picturing—500 steps straight up, a la the pyramids of teotihuacan. nor is 50ish flights of new york city steps. it is 500 steps, yes, but it was oddly doable, so much so that i got to the top without feeling much strain at all.

if you’re reading this and thinking, sarah, you’ve been running 3-4 miles multiple times a week and strength training for nearly 2 years, i know. i know. but somehow, the voice forgets that. the voice still sees me as the kid who couldn’t climb the rope in elementary school gym class, the one who couldn’t run a mile at her end of the year fitness test. the voice has not yet adjusted for my habits, even though those habits are no longer new. the voice is stuck in some outdated story, determined to keep running back the tape.

when we got to the top of the rock, i felt so proud, not just of me, but of all of us. guys! i said. we did it! what a magical, beautiful thing, to have legs that climb and lungs that pump; a body that propels you all the way to the top.

look at that, i said to the voice as i stared down on the lake and all the tiny houses below. look at us go.

the voice was quiet after that.

this afternoon, we went to a small pride festival at a local restaurant.

as soon as we pulled into the parking lot, i spotted the tarot reader’s tent.

oooh, tarot! this got the usual giggles—oh, sarah, so woo woo.

but let me tell you what that tarot reader intuited from me saying VERY LITTLE.

that i need to trust myself more. that i need to lean into joy, lean into happiness. that my sitting on sidelines made sense, because it was a protective mechanism. but that it was also okay to open up and let the world in.

in other words: quiet the goddamn voice. give the guy my number. take the hike, climb the steps, go all the way to the tippity top.

because lord only knows what magic is waiting for me on the other side.

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let’s get to our recs, shall we?

i’m sorry to give you two awards chatter recs in a row, but honestly? this episode with noah wyle was too incredible not to share. if you, like me, are a fan of the pitt, this one is a must-listen. i’ll admit that i didn’t know much about wyle’s story going in (beyond his early career on ER), and man: what a HUMAN! i swear to god i nearly cried towards the episode, so moved was i by the way he talked about acting and art and craft.

over the course of the conversation, which was conducted on the same studio lot on which wyle shot ER (and where he’s now hard at work in the writer’s room for season 3 of the pitt), he talks to scott feinberg about the long arc of his incredible career: his early years on ER (which he auditioned for at just 22!), the film projects he lost out on while filming the show (did you know spielberg wanted him for saving private ryan?!), and all that came after. from there, the conversation shifts to the covid pandemic, and how those years inspired wyle to reach out to his old ER showrunner john wells. that phone call? it eventually lead to what became the pitt

i was particularly inspired by how wyle talked about his character, dr. robby, who’s easily one of the most beloved on tv right now. he is, wyle says in the interview, playing dr. robby closer to him than any other character he’s ever played. the mandate in the writer’s room is to do just that—to write as close to your friends and your loved ones and yourself as you ever have.

opening our own veins for this creative process! I MEAN! JAW! ON! FLOOR! that line GOT me. i rewound and listened again, and then again. my eyes got misty. what a profoundly beautiful statement.

listen to this episode. it’s a gem.

listen here

ps: other podcasts i enjoyed this week included this episode of girls gotta eat about the millennial mid-life crisis (BEEN THERE), this conversation with raphael warnock on the interview, this interview with multi-hyphenate jennifer fisher on take your time, and this episode of the wirecutter show all about headphones—i desperately need to replace my dying airpods!

this book is 400+ pages, and i still managed to read it in the span of a week. i could not put it down, so much so that i literally ditched the crew last night to come up to my little cabin bedroom and read while they watched the world cup. granted, i’m not a sports fan so i might have wanted to ditch even if i wasn’t obsessed with the book i was reading, but that’s neither here nor there. you may recall that into the blue was on my “TBR” list a few weeks ago, along with last week’s rec, the fine art of lying. i’m thrilled to report that i loved both! quite different, but both well-plotted, well-written, and positively un-put-downable.

into the blue is a romance, which means it’s a bit out of my usual wheelhouse. that’s not to say that i never read romance, but that it’s not one of my go-to genres. i’m glad i gave this one a chance, though, because i really, really enjoyed it. throughout the entire book, i kept thinking about how unique it was. the characters felt real, but both the construct and the conceit of the novel felt truly one of a kind.

it’s the summer of 2000, and AJ graves dreams of ditching her small massachusetts town for new york. AJ wants to work for SNL, but instead, she’s stuck working at a video rental store, with slim odds of escaping the fate that has befallen her entire family: they’re born here, they grow old here, they die here.

but then, one day, in walks noah drew. tall, gorgeous, and enigmatic, noah is the scion of the drew acting dynasty—what is he doing here, working the rentals counter? despite having wildly different stories, AJ and noah fall into a fast, fated, cosmic bond. first as friends, and then—upon encouragement from noah’s famous recluse of an aunt, eudora drew—as acting partners. it’s magical and perfect and everything AJ never knew she wanted. or at least it is until one day noah up and disappears without a word.

seven years later, AJ has made it to new york. she’s editing storylines for HGTV and doing improv on the side instead of writing for SNL, but still: she’s there. she’s done it. one day, she’s urged to go to an open casting call by her HGTV boss, and soon finds herself in the strangest of strange situations: she’s been cast in an all-improv, intergalactic tv show. and so is noah drew. on set in los angeles, sequestered away from their real lives, noah and AJ return to the dance of their youth, and the lines between reality and acting begin to blur. unable to keep their eyes (and soon, their hands) off one another, the pair is forced to confront the truth of what happened all those years ago. why did noah run? what did he know that AJ didn’t?

i’ll warn you: this book has some rather graphic (read: hot) sex scenes. but mostly, it’s the story of two people who yearn to be seen and yet hide themselves behind the masks of their characters. it’s a romance, yes—but one of the most creative romances i’ve ever read. i imagine it’ll make it’s way to the small screen (if it hasn’t been optioned already), so read it now!

get it on amazon | get it on bookshop.org

ps: if you’re a big reader, check out the library—a full archive of all the books i’ve recommended here on big feelings, sorted by genre and mood!

i didn’t watch all that much TV this week, but i did happen to catch this INCREDIBLE preview for season three of silo, also known as one of my favorite tv shows of the last few years. it seems that much like season 2 of paradise, season 3 of this incredible dystopian show is going to take us back to the beginning, show us how we got here. and i! can’t! wait! i’ve never understood why this show isn’t the most talked about show on tv—i think it’s that good (the world building alone is so incredibly spectacular words cannot describe it). maybe season 3 will be the one in which society finally catches on?! if you’ve not watched the first few seasons, now’s the time.

catch up on silo here

if you’re looking for something weirder, i’m still watching (and liking!) maximum pleasure guaranteed. tatiana maslany is as epic as ever, and the storyline is just so STRANGE that i can’t look away. i’ve also been hearing great things about widow’s bay from my north carolina friends, but have yet to check it out. if you’ve watched: is it scary? do you recommend?!

psst! if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on IG stories or substack notes—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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whenever summer hits, i crave cold meals. things that will fill me up without heating me up. simple salads i can prep and store, add proteins to, mix and match. these two recipes fit those bills, and then some. i made a big batch of each early in the week, then ate them for lunch all week long, mixing and matching with my (greek gyro) sunday night dinner leftovers, pita + hummus, sliced turkey, etc. the best part? they came together in about 15 minutes (if not less!) each.

first up: samin nosrat’s salad e shirazi—aka a simple but oh so delicious chopped salad comprised of persian cucumber, tomato, red onion, and herbs. i used a combination of italian parsley, dill, and chopped mint, but per the recipe, you can use any number of things! you’ll be shocked at how flavorful this one is, especially given the simple and limited number of ingredients. and it’s PERFECT for a hot day. so incredibly fresh!

salad e-shirazi

second: i really enjoyed this greek orzo salad recipe from . the crispy chickpeas made for some added protein, i was able to repurpose the herbs i’d purchased for salad e shirazi here (i then blitzed the rest into a DELISH cottage cheese-y dip, which i’ll pop a “recipe” for below), and it kept in the fridge for longer than it took me to eat it all up.

greek orzo salad

i’m on the hunt for a dress that fits a “summer whites” theme. such is dress code for welcome drinks at a friend’s wedding in the loire valley in late august, and i gotta tell you: i am stumped. august could be steamy, and i imagine we’ll be mostly if not entirely outside, which means i can’t wear something too tight or sticky or sweat-showing-y. i’ve been leaning towards linen, but also know it can’t be too casual (we’ll be at an actual castle, eep!). all of that is to say: i have yet to find the right dress, but i have been looking at a lot of white dresses online, and found myself unable to say no to this one, which is giving doen vibes for half the price, and also seems positively perfect for the sardinian summer i’ll be having (for a week) after said wedding. my mood as of late has been alllll the crisp cotton-y whites with a hint of eyelet, and this dress? this dress NAILS the brief. it shipped while i was here in north carolina, and i can’t wait to wear it!

summer white stunner

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

doen released their second summer collection, and i am in love with this dress.

did you know alana haim made she + taylor’s knicks tees?! is screenprinting my new hobby?! i am obsessed!

i recently ordered a pair of j. crew’s cosmo pants (i brought them here to NC!) and am very into this new marigold print - so fun for summer!

i love british tv and am very excited to dive into this list of the best shows of 2026 from the guardian (i see a few of my current faves—margo’s got money troubles, maximum pleasure guaranteed—made the cut!).

i was gifted a bottle of this 24-hour body serum and just reordered it with my own money. it’s that good. the smell is otherworldly, and when i saw they had a mini perfume in the same scent, i couldn’t hit “add to cart” fast enough.

are you “triggered” or just upset?

’s incredible dissection of the takedown of belle burden is worth a read. it’s a long one (i listened instead!), but a worthy one.

this brooklyn apartment (a rental!) is so serene.

i really enjoyed this piece from on regret.

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

ICYMI, here a few newsletter issues you might like.

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this is going to sound weird, i said to my therapist on wednesday evening.

i start a lot of my sentences this way when i’m in a session.

this is going to sound weird, but…

this is going to sound insane, but…

ok, i know this doesn’t sound connected, but…

i think it’s my way of hedging my bets. of ensuring that she knows that i know that what i’m about to say is weird, or silly, or overwrought. my way of proving—both to her and to myself—that i am self-aware enough to know when i am saying an insane thing (despite her telling me time and time again that nothing that comes out of my mouth is insane, or weird, and that it’s all always connected).

my latest weird diatribe? that i, sarah, at the ripe old age of 40, am experiencing what i believe the youth refer to as “lucky girl syndrome.”

it feels par for the course that i’m a few years behind on the lucky girl trend, which i recall taking over my instagram feed last summer (or was it the summer before that?!). the premise, as i understand it, is simple: if you believe you are lucky, you become lucky.

two summers ago sarah would have laughed you out of town if you tried to tell her you genuinely believed in this sort of manifestation. and then she would have spent all night ruminating over whether her inability to manifest her dream life was a direct result of her inability to believe in her ability to manifest her dream life.

but 2026 summer sarah? 2026 summer sarah thinks it’s quite possible she is entering her lucky era. because what else could be besides luck that i feel—for the first time in a very long time—genuinely light.

sitting on my therapist’s couch earlier this week, i attempted to connect the dots.

am i happy because i have lost weight? this felt (and feels) like the simplest answer, the one that exists without any sort of nuance. but certainly, it is a part of the equation. in this world, how could it not be?

am i happy because in the last two years, i have left not one but two toxic jobs that did not sit right with my soul, and have now—blessedly, seemingly, though it’s only been one month and i do not want to jinx it—found a resting place that feels genuinely good?

am i happy because i turned 40, and the world did not end?

am i happy because even though my mama has had a tough year, and both my moms are aging, my family feels closer than ever?

am i happy because in my month off between jobs, i re-discovered my creative spark, and threw myself wholly and fully into this newsletter, my instagram account, and my desire to share little snippets of life with strangers?

am i happy because i feel financially solid for the first time ever—like i have an actual plan for not just my emergency fund, but for the savings account i’m calling house fund?

am i happy because i have magically discovered the type of natural confidence i’ve always envied in others, and figured out how to go on dates and just enjoy them without pressure?

am i happy because the sun is out and the flowers in my courtyard are in full bloom and my neighborhood feels alive?

am i happy because mamdani is my mayor and he’s making this city feel electric in a way i had forgotten was possible?

am i happy because i have two quirky, lovable cats who remind me every single day what genuine joy and unconditional love feels like?

am i happy because i’m on lexapro?!

years ago—like, a decade ago—i remember my mama telling me she thought maybe i’d be happier medicated.

it sounds harsh, and in the moment, i reacted harshly. i was in my childhood home, in my basement bedroom, crying about some thing or another thing that had wounded me so fatally that i thought i might never recover. and though she said it with love, i felt her words cut like a knife.

WHY THE FUCK WOULD I BE HAPPIER MEDICATED?! HOW DARE SHE?! MY SENSITIVITY WAS MY CROSS TO BEAR!

i could not imagine another way of living. another way of being.

put more simply: i could not imagine the type of happiness i’d always sensed came more easily to others.

this is not to say i never felt happy. i experienced the emotion frequently, but fleetingly. for so many people i knew, happiness was a resting state. storm clouds blew in, storm clouds blew out.

for me, it was the opposite. happiness was a visiting rainbow. it came at the most unexpected times, brilliant and searing and undeniable. and then it was gone.

it’s not that i didn’t want to be happy. i did, desperately. but i think i felt that to “give in” to an SSRI would mean i was weak—that i could not hack it (it being my brain chemistry) on my own.

it is only in my 40th year (i started lexapro just a few weeks before my 40th birthday, mired in straight up panic that my newly ever-present anxiety would ruin the birthday trip i was planning for myself and 10 dear friends in mexico city) that i was able to admit: i didn’t have to go it alone.

for four decades, i lived—sometimes happily, but often times with some sort of unnamed resting state that felt unnaturally fraught—mostly within the cage of my own brain. i thought my thoughts before i really thought them, and then again before i said them aloud. i ruminated over the ways in which my body moved, and my face reacted, the way my skin tingled and my muscles twitched. i felt every single pore of my being vibrating at all times.

i spent all this time—and oh so much precious energy—pushing the boulder up the mountain because i believed, deep down, that i had to. and i believed this was what made me special. this was what made me me.

it is only now, 6 months into being on an SSRI—and 5+ years into therapy—there exists (and has always existed) another way.

i mean…there but for the grace of god (lexapro) go i, right?!

there are so many things making me happy right now: my health. my friends. my family. my new job (!). this newsletter, and all the big dreams (see what i did there?!) i have for it. my cats. my travel plans. my high-yield savings account (#thisis40).

but also, there is another form of magic: a persistent, vibrating hum of happiness thrumming through my system. in my mind, it’s a pearly, almost iridescent string. one that doesn’t break when stretched, one that is infinite.

this, i suppose, is what i could call lucky girl syndrome. somehow, without realizing it—without overtly manifesting it—i have found myself in a season of light, bright, sparkling luck. i could say it is a result of some sort of unknown force, some sort of goddess above. i could attribute it entirely to the medication that is also floating through my system.

or, as my therapist gently reminded me, i could attribute it to what people in therapy call “the work.”

the commitment i make to myself for an hour, each week, to untangle the knots. to talk through my big feelings, messy and imperfect and almost entirely unformed. that repetition, she tells me, is where the magic lies.

i am never just “talking”—i am muddling my way through, pulling at strings, unraveling the stories i’ve told long told myself were set in stone. and in doing so, i am creating my own version of lucky girl syndrome. one in which i—little by little, brick by brick—make my own luck.

friends: if you genuinely enjoy this newsletter, will you consider sharing it on your IG stories or forwarding along to a friend?

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let’s get to our recs, shall we?

i imagine i’m not alone in saying i positively adore stanley tucci. a few weeks ago, i raved about his turn in the devil wears prada 2, which is—of course—his most recent film role. but i also loved searching for italy, his travel/food show, which i devoured on hbo after visiting puglia a few years ago, and taste: my life through food, his 2021 memoir, which charted, among other things, regaining his taste after battling oral cancer. and then, of course, there’s what i ate in one year, a diary-style book he released in 2024, which is just as it sounds, but also so much better. tucci strikes me as a true artist, an actual renaissance man. intelligent, interesting, well-read and cultured. were i curating a dream dinner party, he’d be on my list!

all this is to say: i so enjoyed his interview on awards chatter, where he talked about his childhood, his italian heritage, his career (to hear scott feinberg rattle off all of his film accomplishments is truly astonishing), and of course, food. he is a one of a kind creative, and an absolute delight to have in your earbuds.

listen here

ps: other podcasts i enjoyed this week: i loved this episode of popcast (which i listened to via my usual the daily feed) with olivia rodrigo. what a gem, and so much wiser than her years. i cannot believe she’s only 24! i also loved this week’s episode of girls gotta eat featuring peloton superstar tunde oyeneyin, in which she talked about 2026 being her “last single summer”—aka how she’s decided this is her last summer without a partner, and is acting accordingly, as well as bad on paper’s june “3 things” episode. i swear my favorite eps are the ones in which and are just chatting (this one is particularly relevant for anyone who’s read yesteryear!). lastly, i found friday’s episode of the daily, about an all-white arkansas community that believes it can use civil rights laws to help them resegregate wild, terrifying, and fascinating.

hallelujah, i have been released from my reading rut! every night this week, even when i’ve gotten home later than i might have liked, i’ve read a handful of chapters of the fine art of lying, which was one of the four TBRs i shared last week. the novel, which is a reese’s book club pick and has already been optioned for tv (with scarlett johansson attached to direct!). in other words: read this one now, i reckon it’s going to be big!

clare bast traded small-town binghamton, new york for manhattan’s art world, and on paper, she has it all: a doting husband. a beautiful apartment. a beautiful baby girl. years after pausing her phd for motherhood, clare feels stuck. stagnant. like the vibrant, exciting identity and life she once had has faded into the background. like she has faded into the background. so when gabriel—a gorgeous french art dealer who takes a shine to clare at a socialiate’s party—seems to see her, she comes alive. when she learns the dealer owns an important work painted by the subject of her unfinished dissertation, she can’t resist the invitation to see it in person. before she knows it, she’s tumbling headfirst into an affair.

but when the dealer is murdered and the masterpiece is stolen, clare finds herself caught not only in a lie, but in the exact wrong place at the exact wrong time. the police suspect she’s the one who did it. her mother-in-law suspects she’s cheating. and clare herself? she suspects she’s gotten in way over her head.

get it on amazon | get it on bookshop.org

ps: if you’re a big reader, check out the library—a full archive of all the books i’ve recommended here on big feelings, sorted by genre and mood!

it’s well-established that i watch quite a bit of low-brow tv. not low-brow in the sense of, say, reality (i am not even remotely interested in bravo-lebrities), but low-brow in the sense of…i love a shitty thriller, or a cheesy teen drama. if i can find a show that has both?! well, color me happy, there’s a sofa in here for two! my latest obsession in this realm is season two of a good girl’s guide to murder, which manages to be both bingeable and powerful, tackling important issues (season one centers around rape; season two features a rape trial) with gravitas and grace. emma myers stars as pip fitz-amobi, and boy is she a JOY to watch onscreen. feisty, smart, and single-minded in her quest to bring justice to the girls who’ve fallen victim to the rich kid rapist in their town who thinks he can get away with (not literal, but maybe) murder.

season two picks up a few months after the events of season one. ostensibly, pip is ready to leave her amateur detective work behind, and focus solely on the upcoming trial of max hastings, a golden boy who’s (as of yet) never had to pay for his crimes. but her plans are derailed when a key witness in the trial, jamie reynolds (the older brother of pip’s friend connor) disappears—just days before he’s meant to testify. suddenly, pip’s solving another crime, racing to find jamie before the clock runs out.

if you ask me, a good girl’s guide to murder is genuinely excellent—and the soundtrack is TOP NOTCH. like, on the level of lidia poet or the buccaneers. badass lady vibes abound!

watch it here

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before last week, i’d never heard of a “smash taco.” but then i saw this recipe on instagram, realized i had literally all the ingredients beyond tortillas in my fridge, and now? now, friends, i am a smash taco person! i know this might not look like much, but this is essentially a greek gyro made with ground meat in a skillet in under ten minutes. as in, it’s the easiest dinner you’ll make this week, hands down. i followed this recipe (the actual recipe is in the caption of the instagram post), but the gist of it is:

• choose your fighter (ground meat). the recipe called for turkey but i’m a ground chicken girl, so i did that.

• season your ground meat. i used my fingers for this because it was soo much easier, but obviously a wooden spoon would suffice. we’re going greek, so it’s oregano, parsley, garlic powder, onion powder, etc.

• make a quick greek-ish salad. i did chopped tomatoes, bell pepper, and cukes + lemon juice, EVOO, S&P etc.

• make a quick tzatziki. i did greek yogurt + more lemon juice + dill + S&P

• cook your taco. LITERALLY all you do is smear your meat onto a tortilla, smoosh it down, then cook it meat-side down in a hot pan for a few mins. THAT’S IT!

• add your toppings, add feta cheese, squeeze of lemon, voila! delish (and quite filling, too!)

  watch the recipe video

after going a wee bit crazy with the memorial day weekend sales, i’m trying to reign in my shopping. though i’ve not been perfect, i am, generally speaking, trying to shop a bit less in the month of june to make up for my may spending. thank goodness for my nuuly membership (get $30 off your first month here!), and for poshmark, where i only purchase when i have credit to spend (you can peep my poshmark closet here!). but being good doesn’t preclude me from window shopping ‘til the cows come home. and by that i mean, scouring the internet for things to put (but not buy) in my online shopping cart. my latest un-purchased haul is at zara, where i fell in love with this colorful crochet dress, among other things. does this baby not just scream european summer to you?! would it not be SO DAMN CUTE with my lil yellow bandana around my neck (or atop my head!) + my favorite cognac-colored birks? i want her, i have (thus far) managed not to purchase her.

a very good dress

two (very unsexy) purchases i did make this month

included a new standing fan and air purifier for my living room. though i try to crop it out in the photos i share on instagram because standing fans are decidedly not chic, i’ve had one in my living room year round for years. when my windows are open, the airflow in my apartment is quite good. but come summer, when windows remain closed so the AC can cool down the room, a standing fan does the lord’s work in circulating that cooler air. a week or two ago, my beloved lasko (not cute, but cheap!) fan started spitting out disgusting dark grey balls of dust. a bit of internet research revealed that the model i had (quite old at this point, no longer manufactured) didn’t have a replaceable filter, which meant not only could i not clean it, but the cats and i were decidedly breathing very dirty air. so, down it went to trash room, and there i went to the internet, desperate to find a perfect new fan. i very nearly splurged on a dyson, but thankfully was saved by a reddit deep dive, which assured me i could get this (semi chic!), very good dreo for just $129. with dyson coming in at more like $400, it was a no-brainer. since the dreo is just a fan (admittedly a cute one, and one with an easily replaceable filter!), i also bought my first air purifier: this one, from windmill, who makes my bedroom AC (which i love!). THIS IS 40, FOLKS!

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

i loved this laundry room redo in domino, and was specifically taken by the paint color (i’m thinking of painting my bedroom pink!)

i am forever on a quest to keep my white sheets white (vs yellow) and fell into a DEEP rabbit hole re: laundry “spa days” last weekend on reddit. that led me to research lipase, which led me to this extremely helpful wirecutter piece. tldr: i can ignore the rabbit hole, my detergent and oxygen whitener are good as is.

my dear friend and work partner hannah lives in dumbo, and to watch the neighborhood explode over the last few years has been positively insane. this curbed article is worth a read for the comments alone!

i really loved this piece from on growing older as a childfree person.

ICYMI, one of my notes (substack’s version of a tweet, ish…) went semi “viral”. of any stories to get 300+ likes, i’m happy it was this one.

a paris street style report. filing this away for my next visit (a quick 1 night on either end of a european sojourn in august!).

i love element brooklyn’s products, and can’t wait to visit their pop-up gallery of scent/shop this summer! hands-on candle making?! refillable bottles?! say less!

this left on friday x clare vivier collab is everything i never knew i needed. OBSESSED with this enormous red tote.

listen, i could care less about sports. but even i can admit: the knicks subway station is THE CUTEST THING EVER. I LOVE NEW YORK!

adding this book to my summer reading list.

the amount of tabs i opened reading ’s latest newsletter about what she’s packing for italy…so inspiring!

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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earlier this week, i published an essay about dating and body image. one that was inherently vulnerable, so vulnerable that very few people commented on it (which of course only made me feel more vulnerable: had i been too open? had i scared people off?). in it, i talked about how—four decades into my time on earth, i feel that i’ve finally gained the one thing i’ve been searching for for all these years: confidence. not in the gross, egocentric, i’m so amazing kind of way. but in a quieter, softer, knowing i am enough kind of way. i talked about my recent dating escapades, and the boy i didn’t sleep with when i was 18 because i didn’t know how to be in my body and i was terrified to say that out loud. i talked about how i am fearful of the ways in which my body moves to this very day, but also, how i am learning that perhaps my body is not a tool to be wielded or an item that can be returned after being deemed faulty, but rather, just…something that can just be. that is enough not because it is perfect, or amazing, or free of flaws, but because it exists, period. because it is the shell that encapsulates my brain and my heart and my wild, dreamy thoughts. i called the essay my body is not an apology not because i feel this confident all the time, but rather, as a reminder to myself (and perhaps to you, too?). a mantra of sorts, one that bears repeating again and again and again: we are not our bodies; we live within our bodies. we can train them and sculpt them and make them strong (more on this below), but still: they are simply a shell. a shell we may want others to admire, a shell we want to be proud of, but a shell nonetheless.

last july, i made the decision to start a glp-1. this was not a decision made lightly. rather, it was a decision i agonized over, shed tears over, panicked over. it was a decision that felt incredibly weighty (pun not intended), a decision that could change my life, shape my life (and my body) for the better or maybe for the worse. it was a decision that i felt said a lot about who i was as a human—was i person who did things on her own, or took the easy way out? (i have since changed my tune on this approach, which—with a bit of distance—i realize was, in its own way, patriarchy and diet culture and general societal judgement about how those who are heavier don’t “try hard enough” talking).

last july, i was 39, with approximately 6 months to go until 40. i was starting to admit the job i had hoped would be “the one” was very much not the one. i was running on and off, but continually getting injured. i was in therapy once a week, lamenting my body and my (lack of) love life and my shitty job and the fact that my parents were aging. i took my first shot in my parents’ living room, having gone home for the week to help out my mommas after my mom had undergone knee surgery. the next morning, while my mom lay stranded on the couch, unable to move on her own, my momma slipped in her socks on the top step of our staircase, and tumbled down the stairs one after another, banging her head and her arm on the way down while i watched, helpless and frozen in slow motion, from down below. we spent the afternoon at the doctor’s office, and the night in the ER determining that she didn’t have a brain bleed. i had made us a dinner of sesame noodles, packed books and drinks and plastic forks. as i sat in the waiting room with her, i couldn’t tell if my lack of appetite was my fear—what if she wasn’t okay? she was bruised and in pain!—or the medication starting to kick in. it was everything everywhere all at once, and it was entirely overwhelming.

still, i stuck with it.

once a week, i stuck myself (i stick myself) with a needle in the flabby part of my belly, and let calgon take me away. once a week, still, i feel a twinge of guilt. have i done the wrong thing? betrayed my body in the very worst of ways? i imagine some would say yes. i myself feel the answer is yes on my bad days. but mostly? mostly, i feel at peace with my decision. i have not—unlike some others i have watched wither away on the internet—shrunken myself into someone entirely recognizable. i have not stopped eating (quite the contrary, i still LOVE TO EAT!). i have not only kept exercising, but have created a workout schedule (is this what one calls a “split:?!) that works for me, and keeps my bones and muscles strong (something incredibly important for those taking a glp-1!). i have, over the past year, gotten my house in order. and not just in the sense of my body, which houses my soul—but in a myriad of other ways, too.

so let’s talk about it, yeah?

the unsexy stuff (finances, health insurance)

when i got my new job last year, it came with a big salary, a number that felt so insane to me i could not believe they were offering it to me. i recall calling my friend mikey, who also works in the industry, to tell him, and saying, it feels like a mistake. i watched as his tiny facetime-d frame leaned back in his chair. he shook his head, then got closer to the screen. this is your new ceiling. from here on out, unless you really want something, you don’t go lower than this. don’t you ever forget: this is your worth. even as i signed on the dotted line, i felt the immense weight of imposter syndrome. me?! they wanted to give this number to me?! i told myself right then and there that this big salary meant that 2025 was the year i started saving FOR REAL. in addition to contributing 6-7% to my 401k, i set up a high yield savings account (HYSA) with ally, and arranged for automatic, bi-monthly transfers of $500 from my checking into savings. $1000 a month, straight into a HYSA, never to be seen again (except in the future in which i need it). perhaps this isn’t impressive to those who’ve been saving forever, but to me, it felt monumental. i had a REAL SAVINGS PLAN!

a month or so into 2025, i also switched my (still meager, but something!) substack earnings from my checking into savings—so that every time i made money off my writing, it went not into my checking account, where it could be easily spent, but into my savings, where it began to build me a parachute out of corporate america. when i got a bonus at work, it went into my HYSA. when i earned (tiny, inconsequential, but still!) affiliate income, it went into my HYSA.

my new goal? get that HYSA up to $40k, then start a new one titled “house fund” — aka, start saving for my dream home upstate. i’ve crunched some numbers on this with claude (yes, i have been experimenting with claude—talk about feeling conflicted, but i’ve found it SO helpful for money stuff, which has historically been a total brain melt for me), and if i continue saving (and hopefully, growing this newsletter!), i’ll get to a down payment in 4-5 years. a long time, but also not? owning a home upstate by the time i turn 45 sure sounds magical.

i also spent HOURS AND HOURS going over the benefits paperwork for my new job, crunching numbers on OOP spend, maximizing the hell out of my final month of old job insurance (where i’d nearly hit my OOP max), talking to my accountant about the tax benefits of an HSA, etc. basically, i did a deep dive into my projected healthcare spend, tallying up therapy (fully out of pocket but worth every penny to me), prescriptions—slightly higher cost at new job, sadly), expected appointments, preventive care, etc. to optimize both short term and long-term savings whilst giving myself the insurance protection i need. was this sexy? not even remotely. but i feel i’m walking into summer (and this new job) having a really strong understanding of my financial plan, and how my healthcare spend supports it (or doesn’t). i’ve got a budget spreadsheet for the first time in my adult life (will i use it, who knows? but it gives me extremely helpful guardrails!), i understand both my 401k savings strategy and my personal savings strategy, as well as how to maximize my healthcare spend to keep the most of my hard-earned dollars…basically, at 40, i’m finally a grown-up who genuinely feels like she has her financial shit together.

the strong stuff (strength training, PT, running)

strength training is imperative for those taking a glp-1, because the drugs can cause you to lose both fat and muscle (if you don’t work to maintain/build that muscle). it’s also, generally speaking, good for everyone, but especially for women (or so the research seems to say). after my first running injury a few summers ago (likely a torn meniscus, but i had shitty state sponsored health insurance at the time and didn’t want to pay for an MRI), i started physical therapy. when i graduated, i was determined to maintain the strength i’d built. i sourced running-specific workouts on instagram, and landed on a course from dr. lisa DPT, who has since become one of my favorite follows! i did her return to run program, and did indeed return to running for a good couple of months. but, as capricorns are wont to do, i progressed too quickly, and soon found myself with a similar stitch in my hamstring as the last time (though this time on my right leg). i kept strength training, pivoting to the ladder app (here’s a free 7-day guest pass!) which i LOVE, but abandoned running. i hoped time would heal all wounds, but alas, that’s not how running injuries work. so last october, i went back to a sports doctor, and then back to PT—only to have to pause all physical activity for 6 weeks following my myomectomy right before thanksgiving.

in the new year, i returned to PT with a vengeance.

my physical therapist (i saw sam at spear pt on broome street, and sanjeeta at the same location before that—both of whom i highly recommend!) knew i’d had surgery, and incorporated ab work into our sessions, building back up my core strength in addition to my legs. from early january to mid-may, i saw sam twice a week, then strength trained on my own (with the ladder app) 2-3 times. generally speaking, up until very recently, my workout schedule looked like this:

monday: ladder strength (full body)

tuesday: PT with sam (1 hr)

wednesday: ladder strength (arms or legs/glutes specific)

thursday: PT with sam (1 hr)

friday: ladder strength (whatever specific area i didn’t do on weds)

saturday: short ladder ab workout (20ish mins), y7 hot yoga class (my favorite!), or rest day

sunday: rest day (or saturday’s sched, if i rested on sat)

now that i’ve graduated from PT (yay!) and been cleared to return to running, it looks like this.

mon/weds/fri: morning run by the east river

tues/thurs/sat: ladder strength (mix of full body, abs, and specific targeted workouts for arms or legs)

sunday: rest day (or yoga, if i feel like it)

in addition to these scheduled workouts, i aim to get between 8-12k steps a day. some days, this is easy as pie—new york is a walking city, and i can crush 10k steps without thinking about it. other days, it’s a battle to get more than 5,000. something i am working on is remembering that the step goals fed to us are entirely arbitrary, and that it all evens out in the wash. now, when i have a 5k day (or even a 3k day), i try not to beat myself up. i’ll have a 14k day soon enough! having injured myself not once but twice running through pain, i’ve learned: when my body needs rest, i must listen.

the supplement-y stuff (vitamins, protein powder, etc.)

i’ve also added a handful of supplements into the mix. on the recommendation of my bff joia, who is a natural beauty and all around wellness guru, i began taking oil of oregano in the mornings. after a spate of brutal sicknesses last year, she suggested i try it to boost my immune system. i’m delighted to say (knock on wood!) i haven’t been sick since. when i feel a cold coming on, i add in wellness formula, and my go-to homemade hero tea. daily, i take the OOO, plus my 10mg lexapro (which has saved my life!), and these vitamin D3 gummies. before i have any coffee, i drink a glass of warm water with sea salt + fresh squeezed lemon, which may do absolutely nothing but i’ve heard helps get your digestive system moving again before you shock it with caffeine. it’s an easy and inexpensive way to start the day, so…why not?! i try and limit myself to two coffees a day (one at home brewed in my french press, the second post-workout at my favorite neighborhood cafe). for breakfast, i eat either greek yogurt + berries + my homemade granola (so good), or make my go-to smoothie, to which i recently started adding in two new to me products: this creatine powder + this collagen powder. both dissolve into the smoothie without any taste, and look pretty on my kitchen countertop, which is more important to me than it should be. the collagen contains a lil bit of protein, which makes me happy, because i am, like everyone, trying to integrate more protein into my diet (meh). more on that below!

the simple stuff (aka the hardest part)

it would be easy to lean into the optimization of it all, and honestly? i have. planning, strategizing, optimizing—that shit brings me real, tangible joy. MY GOD I LOVE A TO DO LIST. but the real work i’ve been doing in the first few months of my 40th year has been the work that can’t really be encapsulated in a to do list. sticking to therapy every week even when i feel like i’m in a good patch and maybe could go down to bi-weekly. getting enough sleep, and cooking my own meals at home because this is not only healthier but feels like moving meditation, calming my nervous system and soothing my soul. saying the hard thing when i have disagreements with friends, standing up for myself when i feel i’ve not been given the benefit of the doubt in a conversation. choosing not to answer a text from a one night stand who continues to text me, years later, every time he’s in new york, because even though i know seeing him would make me feel wanted i also remember that he was sweaty and kind of smelly and i felt gross after i slept with him. going on dates and being 100% totally MYSELF and trying to remember that the men can take or leave me and their choices say nothing about how valuable i am to the people i love and the people that love me (more on that here).

this is the stuff that matters. choosing myself in big ways and in small ways. choosing to believe that i am worthy of all the good things and remembering that i still have room to grow. in so many ways, i feel more myself than i ever have, and more on top of my shit than ever before. but this feeling? it could be a blip if i don’t continue to work at it. if i don’t continue to lean into the good feelings and trudge through the bad ones. supplements and strength training are great, but they are just a piece of the puzzle.

so yes: i feel my best at 40, and that feels fucking FANTASTIC. i am at once ancient and still so young. i know so much, and i still have so much to learn. i made a commitment to myself when i entered this new decade that i wanted it to feel strong, empowered, and free. so far, so good.

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and now for our recs.

do i find dax shephard’s armchair expert to be a bit much sometimes? absolutely. will i listen when one of my favorite people is on the pod? 1000% yes. this interview with brandi carlile, one of my favorite artists (i saw her in february at MSG!), was an absolute delight to listen to. though i knew she’d grown up in rural washington (where she still lives with her wife and two daughters today!), i didn’t know that she’d grown up with a (brilliant, but sick) alcoholic father, that she’d had to learn the hard way how to handle a parent who is unwell. listening to her and dax talk about addiction was what glennon doyle calls “brutiful” (brutal + beautiful); enlightening and horrifying all at once. i also really enjoyed hearing about her early music career, how hard she hustled to get her foot in the door (if you’re a brandi fan, you’ve got to listen for her story re: how she met the twins!). she is such an empathetic, interesting human that i imagine even those who don’t consider themselves fans will enjoy this episode. but if you are a fan? well, this one is a must listen. especially because she plays an acoustic song for dax and monica at the end that will have you in tears.

listen here

ps: other podcasts i enjoyed this week:

i really REALLY loved lena dunham on good hang with amy poehler—so much that i probs should have saved it for next week’s highlighted pod. i know people feel some type of way about lena, but i think she is scarily self-aware, hilarious, and a brilliant writer. i adore her! i also listened to and enjoyed this episode of the goop podcast with GP x ester perel on AI and modern dating (eep, scary but fascinating!), this episode of the culture study podcast on summer camp, and this episode of the daily about ships and crew members stranded in the strait of hormuz.

i think i’m in a wee bit of a reading rut as of late. i’m still working my way through hot girl murder club which i want to finish but am not exactly excited to read each night. i probably should have DNFed it, but now i’m 80% in and the sunk cost fallacy has got me good! not all books are for all people, you know? a good reminder that if you’re not loving something, it’s okay to put it down. good for you, not for me, as amy poehler likes to say.

the good news? my summer reading list is off to a GREAT start. i’ve got these four books downloaded on my kindle, all of which i am very excited for—which one should i start first?! we’ve got the latest from where’d you go bernadette author maria semple (i imagine i will LOVE this book, i loved bernadette). we’ve got emma brodie’s into the blue which seems like a strong contender for the book of summer if the bookish people i follow online are any indication (see: and , who read it for their most recent bad on paper podcast book club!). and we’ve got two thrillers: the ending writes itself by evelyn clark* and the fine art of lying by alexandra andrews, which i bought on the spot after seeing it was a reese’s book club pick (reese never disappoints me!).

*evelyn clark is a nom de plume for cat clarke and VE schwab, who wrote the invisible life of addie larue, which i loved! stephen king calls it agatha christie-esque, and said it was “in the running for the best mystery of 2026.” SAY LESS, STEPHEN!

which one would you start with?!

Leave a comment

ps: if you’re a big reader, check out the library—a full archive of all the books i’ve recommended here on big feelings, sorted by genre and mood!

i’ve been enjoying netflix’s legends, which follows a team of customs officers working to infiltrate and expose britain’s most notorious gangs. legends is fronted by steve coogan, who plays don, a customs agent charged with training a group of total amateurs to infiltrate heroin rings in the thatcher era. legends, he tells them, are false identifies you concoct to infiltrate a criminal network. your legend has to be part of you, he says, or it won’t work. and when legends don’t work, people die.

as the show opens, we’re witness to two brutal overdose deaths at the opposite ends of the class spectrum, establishing the urgent need for a task force that will get heroin off the streets. in short order, don whittles a crew of 15 hopefuls down to his final four: guy, a working class londoner with a chip on his shoulder and a heart of gold, erin, a clerical genius with a gift for distilling documents, kate, a northerner determined to fight the damage drugs have inflicted on her home region, and bailey, a son of immigrants whose adopted country is too blinded by racism to see his brilliance.

within days, they’re off to the races, divided between heroin’s two main domestic distribution centers: liverpool, where the decline of industrial work has turned a generation of former dockside workers towards narcotics, and london, where a kurdish gang based in the turkish neighborhood of green lanes imports product all the way from pakistan.

legends is at times a slow burn, but it’s got excellent acting and good wrting—enough to keep you engaged sans a second screen (a mark of good tv in this day and age!). if you like a political thriller (or history), this one’s for you.

watch it here

psst! if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on IG stories or substack notes—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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i mentioned above that i’ve been trying to eat more protein. as someone who could easily go pescatarian (if not full on vegetarian), protein is a bit of a chore for me. i like chicken, but get bored of it, and i eat very little red meat. i enjoy some fish (salmon, scallops, shrimp), but shy away from anything that tastes “too fishy” or presents as too slimy (no thank you to oysters et al). this means i’m often left scrambling for creative ways to up my protein intake. thankfully, i like eggs, love soy products (edamame, tofu, etc.), and don’t mind protein powder so long as its mixed in my morning smoothie. it would take a hell of a lot of eggs to hit my protein goals, and so i keep my focus a bit simpler: i try to have protein with every meal, or—if not every meal—at least 2 meals a day. i find this easiest to do at breakfast, where as mentioned above, i often eat greek yogurt, drink a smoothie, or (time permitting!) make an egg scramble. but every so often, i get sick of my usual, and crave something different.

enter: these ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS egg muffins, which you can whip up in about 10 minutes, and which keep in the fridge for a week (and even longer in the freezer). they’re a great grab and go breakfast, and also make for a nice healthy snack when you’re craving something savory and hearty but don’t have time to do any real cooking. they’re definitely better if you heat them up, but i’ve been eating mine straight out of the fridge with zero complaint. a simple mix of eggs + cottage cheese + frozen (defrosted) spinach, plus a lil flour + grated parm + chopped scallions, these muffins have tons of taste, and pack a protein-punch. win-win!

get the recipe

i did quite a bit of damage whilst shopping last weekend’s memorial day sales, so i’ve no new shopping finds for you today. that said, i thought i’d resurface last sunday’s shopping post—as i think some of these things are still on sale and very much worth buying! the post linked below has a full list of all the things i actually bought (plus all the ones i considered, too!). if you’re looking to build out your summer wardrobe, start here! the finds were (and are) very, very good.

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

i filed this roundup of excellent etsy shops for antiques/interior decor away for safekeeping.

what a beautiful, colorful, pattern-forward cottage (just 980 square feet and so stylish!).

i am a huge fan of all things , and loooved this feature on her home in the french countryside. dreamy x a million!

i loved this letter to my 35 year old self (sent to me by my dear friend amanda).

is belle burden a liar? i spent a good 20 minutes talking about burden’s strangers with two girlfriends over dinner last night and i’m still not sure where i land!

hotels under $300 in paris (what a fabulous list to file away!).

contemplating this large bucket bag (to accommodate the GIANT 16” laptop i was given for new job). does anyone have it + can yay/nay?!

speaking of smoothies: i want to try this one, from a popular brooklyn cafe, as adapted by nyt cooking’s ali slage.

i am so obsessed with our new mayor. his latest achievement? this interactive list of cool things to do in nyc this summer.

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

ICYMI, here a few newsletter issues you might like.

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a friend who has a joie de vivre that lights up the room. a friend whose heart is enormous, whose laugh is loud, and who—regardless of how she looks on any given day—has the type of confidence i have always felt was out of my reach.

years ago, standing in our office’s shared kitchen heating up our lunches, i asked her:

how are you this confident? teach me your ways!

she shrugged. i just am, she said. as though it was that simple. as though confidence wasn’t an outfit she put on in the morning but an energy that sizzled through her entire body, a state that was innate to her being. she was all that and a bag of chips—no matter how many chips she had eaten recently—and she knew it.

she was (and is) like me, curvy.

i am the type of woman who will never be a size 2. i may be strong, and capable, and—in certain areas—toned, but i’m also soft, and jiggly, and likely always will be.

for most of my life, i have operated on the assumption that being bigger makes me less than.

less desirable.

less sexy.

less lovable.

this has, naturally, led me to have less confidence—because how could i possibly exude a belief in my worthiness when i believe, deep down, that i am not worthy?

from the time i realized that i was attracted to boys (now men), i wondered (and really, worried): was i pretty enough? good enough? worthy enough to be wanted?

somewhere along the way, society had convinced me that the answer was no. and so the ways in which i moved through the world followed suit.

i told myself stories.

stories about what was wrong with me.

stories about how i would never, ever, be the one chosen.

stories about how my friends were prettier than me, thinner than me, better than me.

the problem with telling yourself stories like this is that you tell them often enough that they become not stories, but reality. a reality you have created in your head, mind you—but a reality nonetheless. a reality that shapes every move you make (and every move you don’t).

i have this distinct memory of a moment in which i chose not to lose my virginity.

Read more

i found myself inside a store full of floaty, silk chiffon-y dresses and the softest sweaters i’d ever felt, and before i knew it, i was dropping an obscene (for me, at least) amount of money on a silk top/dress + a light as air cashmere tunic tinged in lace. in the moment, i told myself the math made sense. my lodging for the week had been 100% free, thanks to a house swap i was doing with the parisian who was currently staying at my place in new york. i’d purchased my flight with credit card miles, so that, too, had been free (never mind the fact that i had chosen to upgrade said flight for $500 so that i could sleep on the red eye over). i’d been taking the metro everywhere instead of splurging on ubers, like the truly city gal i am. and yet, as i handed over my credit card, i balked. i was, technically, in between jobs. i was living off of my PTO payout during my month off, and while i had a healthy cushion (both in my checking and in savings), i still felt a twinge of guilt.

was it fiscally irresponsible to shop like this? sure, i make a good (arguably great salary). that salary enabled me to sock away nearly $30k of rainy day funds last year (thank you, automatic transfers—if i don’t see the money, it does not exist!), an accomplishment i am inordinately proud of. i was in between jobs, yes, but i had a new job lined up—unlike my 2024 break from corporate america, this break was fully chosen, perfectly timed, and (if i may) incredibly well-executed. i did not have paychecks coming in at that exact moment, but i knew when i would have them coming in again.

and so, i tapped my amex, and signed my name on the dotted line. i filled out the paperwork that would enable reimbursement for VAT tax (which would put a lovely $80ish USD back in my pocket in a month or so!), and thanked the salesgirl for all of her help (she had, after seeing me fall in love with said silky top/dress, had my size messengered over from a store in another arrondissement, and waited around after closing for it to arrive—bless her!).

it was the most expensive in-store session i’ve had in years. and you know what? once i got home, i regretted not spending more. because there was also a matching flared silk chiffon pant—a pant i have been thinking of since i returned home a few weeks ago, a pant i have been stalking online every damn day. a pant i may or may not have ordered yesterday, because guess what: we only live once, and why the hell do i work so hard (both in my day job and on this newsletter) if not to buy a fancy thing every now and then?!

as you know, i’m about a little under a year into taking a glp-1.

the medication has changed my life in a variety of ways. one of those ways is that i look different, yes. but i feel different, too. i feel more willing to take fashion risks, to splurge on items that make me feel good. that make me feel…dare i say sexy?! i have spent so much of my time on this earth apologizing (both internally and externally) for my body, and to have moments—still fleeting, but they exist!—of feeling like i genuinely have nothing to apologize for (I NEVER HAD ANYTHING TO APOLOGIZE FOR, I KNOW, I KNOW)? it is a magical thing. and that magical thing has led to me doing a bit more shopping than i have in the past.

all of that is to say: i bought the pants. and also, i ordered a few other (much less expensive!) things that had been sitting in my online carts, or hanging out in the “shopping list” note i keep on my phone so that i do not buy things in the moment, but rather, return to their links only if i really, truly can’t stop thinking about them. because if i’m going to buy things, i’d (ideally) like to buy them on sale, and now is a great time to shop sales-y things! most of my favorite retailers are offering 20% off, and many are offering even more—30%, 40%, 50% even! it’s a great chance to stock up on the items you’ve been eyeing but not buying.

if you, like me, felt a wee bit overwhelmed by all the ~*memorial day sale!!!!*~ emails hitting your inbox, i’ve got you. i’ve pulled together 34 (ish) things i spotted on sale this weekend. some, i already own and love and therefore can vouch for. others, i purchased myself. others remain on my wishlist, because i must still be somewhat fiscally irresponsible even when i’m feeling myself ;)

happy shopping!

and a friendly reminder that if you do not feel like shopping (or can’t afford to at the moment—been there!!), you can fully ignore this newsletter, close out the tab, and return for next week’s 5 things. there will always be items to buy (sale or otherwise), and when in doubt, there’s poshmark.*

*speaking of which: come help me clear out my closet. make me an offer and i shall accept!).

we’ll start with what i actually ordered.

these striped silky pants which have been in my cart for months (literally)

this lilac striped oversized sweatshirt which i think is actual spring summer perfection

butter yellow silk shorts that rival reformation but are on sale for under $20 (!!)

inexpensive aviators that will make every outfit feel cooler

high-waisted crinkle gauze barrel pants—for all those 90 degree days ahead

next, the things i own and love that are on sale

THE rag & bone sweatpant jeans. the PERFECT airport pant, looks chic as hell but you’re wearing sweatpants (!!). normally $268, down to $193.

the perfect summer shift in my favorite shade: tomato red. i’ve gotten so much wear out of this already.

the doen lookalike tank top i snagged last week that i’ve already worn twice (it washes well!)

a micro skort in picnic-y gingham (because there are lo so many 90 degree days ahead)

my favorite eye balm which has worked actual magic on my under eye bags + wrinkles

the best in-shower moisturizer (20% off today!)

the bubble jeans everyone loved from paris (and i love too)

a strappy, stripe-y mini dress i can’t wait to wear in europe this summer (linen, but washes well!)

and finally, a whole slew of things that i added to my cart (but restrained from buying)

MADEWELL | 25% off dresses, shoes, and tees - plus an extra 30% off sale items

adorable bandana shorts

perfect pull on pants

lilac chambray dress (i really want this one!)

clearly i have a thing for lilac dresses

white lace mini dress (so summery!)

a mini dress with big doen vibes

striped mesh tote (an excellent summer bag)

BANANA REPUBLIC | 30% off full-priced purchases

a very good straight leg linen pant (and in a fun pattern!)

ruched floral mesh dress (so sexy!)

pictured above, this cropped linen white top is soo chic

viscose cowl neck dress (i bought this for a wedding a month ago!)

J CREW | 40% off purchase, 50% off swim

gauze midi dress (perfect for beach weekends)

beach pant with pom poms (so fun!)

really love this embroidered mini coverup dress

my favorite fits everything but still looks fab tote in summer straw

mixed print gingham dress (i love this so much!!)

pineapple print crepe de chine silk dress - say less

QUINCE | sadly not on sale, but always great prices

cutie gingham high-waisted shorts

baby blue strapless linen dress

baby blue cashmere henley (i guess i'm into blue?!)

want to shop all my mem day sale picks?

you can access all 40+ of them here!

and that friends, is where i leave you: if you genuinely enjoy this newsletter, will you a) tap the little heart at the bottom and b) consider sharing it on your IG stories or forwarding along to a friend?

doing so helps ensure big feelings gets seen by more people, as does subscribing (whether paid or free) below.

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there’s a taylor swift song i love called the best day. it’s a song taylor wrote nearly twenty years ago for her mother, andrea, and is inspired by the ways in which her mom was (and is!) her greatest confidante. in it, she paints scenes from her childhood, but the one that’s always stuck out to me is the tale of how, when she was 13, she got bullied at school and came home crying. how her mother grabbed the keys and took her out for the afternoon.

it is, to me, taylor at her best: simple, emotive, so personal it’s universal storytelling. whenever i hear it, it makes me want to cry, because it so perfectly encapsulates how mothers can make their children feel seen, and cared for, and wanted when the outside world makes them feel the opposite.

the music video for the best day is full of original home video footage—stitched together by taylor, who recorded the song in secret and presented it (along with the video) to her mother as a surprise. it appears on fearless, one of her early albums, and was played as a mashup with never grow up as a “surprise song” on the eras tour (which you can and should watch below if you need a good cry).

it is perfect, and beautiful, and i think of it every time i have a good day with my mamas, because as they age, every ‘best day’ feels like a tease. like something that could be ripped away from me at any moment. as you all know, my momma has been battling breast cancer since last fall, and though she is—all things considered—doing relatively well, to see her both aging and sick has been difficult (to say the least). during chemo, she lost her hair. her face is at once puffy and wrinkled, as though every single minute of her 75 years on this earth has been etched into her face for eternity.

yesterday, we spent 30 or so minutes walking around the east village before sitting down to a late lunch at westville. multiple times, she had to take a rest. she, the woman who can chop wood with an axe, who can snow blow an entire driveway and the back patio too. she who taught me how to drive, and how to stand up for myself. it has been—and continues to be—a mind fuck, this role reversal of sorts. any time she has to sit down, i wonder, is she okay? any time she gets up to go to the bathroom, i anxiously watch the door, or the hallway, or the stairwell of the restaurant, counting down the moments, waiting to see if she will return safe and sound. she is not gone yet, and hopefully, will not be lost to me for quite some time—but her illness has brought about the reality that i for years have tried to compartmentalize: she is aging, and she will not be here with me forever.

learning how to sit with this has been hard on me.

not because i do not know how to grieve (losing penny, my soul cat, two summers ago, taught me that i can lose and love again), or make it through hard things, but because i cannot imagine a world in which she does not exist, strong and sassy and capable. as her body has begun to fail her, as her mind has begun to do the same—memories flitting and floating into the ether like dandelion dust, never to be seen again—it has become all the more real to me. and still, i cannot believe it. she, my mother, the toughest person i know, is no longer the toughest person i know. not because she doesn’t want to be, but because her body will not let her be. because, after carrying her through this much life, it has grown tired.

it is easy to feel like this is inherently unfair. aging is at once exactly that—inherently unfair—and the utmost privilege. every single moment we have with our loved ones is a privilege, though we often forget it (cue the best day, cue the tears). it is easy to feel slighted, and angry, that i have not been given more time. that cancer chose her, that chronic pain plagues her, making it tough for her to walk long distances or spend full days exploring. it’s easy to feel deeply, tragically sad about the state of it all, because though i may never get married or even find my person, chances are that if i do, it will be years from now, and who knows if she’ll be around to see it. it’s easy to wish i had a magic wand that i could tap on her head to regrow her hair, or a magic pill i could give her to take the pain away. easy to wish i could hug her into health and happiness. easy to wish it all were different.

and yet.

this morning, i sat across from my mamas at breakfast, and hit record on a voice memo as my momma told me about living in a ‘radical lesbian house in dorchester’ for years. about her old roommate annie tondu, who now lives in vermont but once lived in the dorchester attic and worked as an au pair for a wealthy family. about how she met my mom, about the moment in which they transitioned from friends into a relationship. i listened to my mom tell the story of the night they met in a loud, crowded bar, how they spent an hour talking in a hallway and realized they were both on the medical track—my mom already in medical school, my mommy contemplating PA school—and that despite being quite different on the surface, they shared the same values. healthcare as a human right, for starters.

it’s so easy to feel like my moms are slowly but surely being ripped away from me. like life hasn’t given them long enough. but then i ask the right questions, and the stories unfurl, and i realize: they have lived oh so much life. they have so much to teach me, and so much to tell me, and there are not enough minutes in the world to hear it all—but breakfast this morning is something. every moment we have is something.

and so i say to my mommas, who (mostly) read this newsletter each week: i had the best day with you today.

friends: if you genuinely enjoy this newsletter, will you consider sharing it on your IG stories or forwarding along to a friend?

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and now for our recs.

you all know by now how much i love talk easy, the incredible interview podcast series from sam fragoso. talk easy joined the obama’s higher ground media earlier this year, and since the announcement, i’ve been eagerly awaiting sam’s sit down with michelle obama. now that it’s here, i’m thrilled to say it was just incredible and insightful as i’d hoped it would be. michelle is a beacon of wisdom, graceful and feisty and intelligent as all get out. i loved her recount her early relationship with barack (if you read her book—and you should, it’s excellent!—you know this story already), as well as hearing more about her parents and her father in particular. she has him to thank for her work ethic, but it’s her own ambition that propelled her from a chicago high school to princetown and later to harvard law (so impressive). if you need to be reminded of what the white house once stood for and what our country can be (and was, for a moment—though still imperfect at best), listen to this. it’ll make you feel inspired and hopeful.

listen here

ps: other podcasts i enjoyed this week:

my moms’ friend mint, who reads here and often leaves comments (hi, mint!) shared this ezra klein episode on glp-1s with me and i’m so glad she did. i didn’t know much about graham platner (a democratic candidate for us senate) before this ep of the interview and now i want to know everything i can about him. i’ve been working my way through this (long, but excellent!) acquired episode about vanguard (yes, they of 401ks!). the history of the company is FASCINATING.

i think this might be a first—i have no finished book to share with you this week! i’ve been falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow at night (week two of new job + it was hot as hell earlier this week), i had great podcasts to listen to during the day so no audiobook listening was done, and the book i did start is an ARC (advanced reader’s copy) of ashley winstead’s forthcoming hot girl murder club, which comes out in july. i’m only a little bit of the way in, but am liking it so far. here’s the premise:

ten years ago, aspiring starlet scout sage lost the only thing that mattered to her—her sister georgia—at a hollywood party. as she’s climbed the ladder, scout’s done her best to honor georgia’s memory, clawing her way through the industry and collecting a series of fellow ambitious ‘hot girls in stilettos’ along the way. but nothing she does will bring back the sister she lost.

when a slew of targeted murders across LA makes headlines, all signs point to scout as the killer. overnight, she goes from a mid-tier pop star to the world’s most famous (alleged) murderer, putting everything she’s worked to build (including the justice she’s attempted to get for georgia) at risk. can she prove her innocence? as she attempts to defend herself, the young detective assigned to her case unearths secrets not even scout knows—about georgia’s death, and about the way it connects to an older pattern of crimes long hidden by hollywood’s hotshots.

pre order it on amazon | get it on bookshop

ps: if you’re a big reader, check out the library—a full archive of all the books i’ve recommended here on big feelings, sorted by genre and mood!

i watched the first two episodes of maximum pleasure guaranteed earlier this week, which is fronted by woman who has been missing from my tv rotation for far too long: tatiana maslany, who i first discovered years ago as the star of orphan black. in OB, maslany plays not one character, not two, but seventeen (!) distinct characters (clones), a feat that rightfully won her a slew of awards back in the 2010s. her work on the show is masterful as hell, and i’ve long felt she is an under-utilized and under-celebrated actress. all of which is to say: i was thrilled to see her starring in this new david j. rosen series on appletv+, which is wonderfully weird and dark and oh so of the moment.

in maximum pleasure guaranteed, maslany plays a recently-divorced fact-checker named paula who finds herself caught up in a dangerous rabbit hole of blackmail after she witnesses what she believes to be a murder whilst video chatting with a sex worker named trevor. i KNOW. it’s a wild premise, and one complicated by the fact that paula is mid custody battle, attempting to get promoted at work, and failing at both because she can’t seem to get her shit together.

darkly funny, weird as hell and oh so entertaining, this one is a must watch for anyone who liked maslany’s prior work—or shows like killing eve, your friends and neighbors, or (TBT!) weeds.

watch it here

psst! if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on IG stories or substack notes—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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if you, like me, live on the east coast, you’re staring down a very rainy MDW. it’s likely that any BBQs you had on the calendar have been cancelled, or at the very least, moved indoors. but have no fear: this delicious spring-y potato salad will be just as good when actual summer hits—and doesn’t, of course, actually require a holiday to be prepped and eaten. now, i know what you’re thinking: meh, potato salad, so mayo-y! but this one has no mayo! and it’s somehow still creamy and delicious (if you ask me). i adapted the nyt cooking recipe linked below, adding in some spring peas + sliced asparagus for extra veg and swapping parsley for dill, because it was what i had and because i wanted greek-ish vibes.

then, i sautéed some chicken breast, which i seasoned with olive oil, smoked paprika, garlic + onion powder, and a lil dried oregano (plus S&P, of course). it made for an absolutely DELICIOUS lunch this week—so nice that i ate it twice, two days in a row!

perfect spring potato salad

remember how last week i asked if you had doen aspirations on a dime store budget? well, i most certainly do. so much so that i fell prey to this absolutely perfect doen top that i most certainly did not need to spend nearly $300 on. mom, i know you’re reading this, and i’m sorry. it probably doesn’t make it any better to know i kept an eye on it for a week in my online cart before hitting purchase (as i do with all expensive purchases, so that i don’t impulse buy something absurdly expensive). i know their are dupes available at madewell and the like, but none of them have this absolutely perfect summer embroidery, and i’ve learned over the years that when i am truly in love with a piece of clothing, no dupe will do. so here i stand, telling you that i spent an absurd amount of money on this top (and i cannot wait for it to arrive!!!). sometimes, a girl has to splurge.

i bought it (eeep!)

ps: i’ve been gathering a series of links to all the things i’m eyeing (but very much trying not to buy since i just spent $300 on a shirt) in this weekend’s memorial day sales. i hope to get a shop-y post up tomorrow for your perusing (and purchasing, if you’re so inclined). if you’re shopping for anything specific and want a rec, drop your requests in the comments below! there’s SO MUCH GOOD STUFF ON SALE, but also: we do not need more stuff, so—as always—only shop if you want to.

speaking of not shopping: i want to gift you some things!

well, one of you, that is! i’ve been lucky enough to be gifted lots of fun skincare and beauty goodies over the past few months, and i’ve been setting aside a bunch of them to gift to paid subscribers every month or so. i’ve got a box all packed up for one lucky winner. all you have to do to enter is a) be a paid subscriber b) leave a comment below!

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

where strangers author belle burden eats in new york.

jeremiah brent and nate berkus’ portugal estate is an absolute dream. oh, to be a wealthy interior designer (times two!).

i continue to marvel at the ways in which my major zohran mamdani and his team do things. his latest accomplishment? a streaming “radio” show inspired by mayor laguardia. you can watch his first episode here!

i loved this piece on solo travel, which you all know i love (but didn’t always!)

yummy veggie snacks, courtesy of nyt cooking’s the veggie. i can’t wait to make these spinach egg bites!

the comments in this cup of jo piece are a goldmine (10 things i never travel without).

a heartbreaking and beautiful modern love essay on alzheimer’s.

last night my friend maddie and i sat on the couch and drank wine and made keychains (from this $20 kit i bought!) and it was the PERFECT friday evening activity.

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

ICYMI, here a few newsletter issues you might like.

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we’re staring down a weekend of heat and humidity here in nyc, and i’m having slight regrets that i’ve waited this long to install my living room AC unit (i always wait this long, i hate how it blocks out the light!). tomorrow’s real feel will reach 90 degrees, and i’ve got my heart set on trekking out to the beach early in the morning to make the most of it. baby’s first rockaway trip of the season, eeep! there is nothing like a friendly reminder that manhattan is an island and—despite what you might think whilst sitting in traffic—is just 12ish miles from the beach. the key, i’ve found, is to hit the road early (between 9-10am), when google maps is mostly green and the parkways are clear and you can sail across the bridges without a care in the world, then wrap it up by 2 or 3pm, before the late afternoon commute back into the concrete jungle reaches its peak. i keep a beach blanket in my trunk, as well as an umbrella for particularly scorching days, but my favorite beach jaunts are the ones in which i arrive there with little more than a towel, some sunscreen, and my kindle. that’s all i need, really. well, that and a bag of bbq chips and a grocery store sammie.

what else?

i’ve been back in the states just ten days, and am already planning a late august europe trip. i’ve been invited to a friend’s wedding in the loire valley, and as i said to hannah earlier this week, if you give a mouse a (castle) cookie, they’re going to ask for a glass of milk (extend the trip). if you follow me on instagram, you may recall that last summer, i spent two weeks across the pond. a group of us rented a house in corsica for a week, and i bookended my trip with a few nights in paris and a handful in london. at the time, i was knee deep in a stressful time at work, the pit in my stomach growing larger and larger each day. it was become clearer by the day that things were not going to get better, that likely, they were only going to get worse—and that i had dragged my partner and dear friend into hell alongside me. suffice it to say: two weeks in europe was exactly what the doctor ordered. though isn’t it always?

corsica was an absolute dream, from the beaches to the morning bread delivery (really! see photo one below!). we cooked dinner each night and made nespresso coffees each morning. we hiked and beached, and beached some more. we drove big cars down tiny roads (ask me about the time google took us down a one way street in bonifacio!). the island is rich in history and home to some of the most stunning water i’ve ever seen, and all week, we kept saying, “we have to do this again next summer.” fellow (euro) tourists we met were shocked to hear we were on the island for just a week; they were accustomed to coming for two weeks, three weeks, a month at a time (oh, to be a european!). back in paris, i split a bottle of wine with a beautiful south african man, then packed up my bags and took the train to london, where i spent a few nights with my relatives and ran through hampstead heath before dunking in the women’s pond (the best summer activity EVER).

it was a trip for the books, a trip i will remember forever because of how perfect and relaxed i felt. sunkissed and slightly wrinkly, skin pink and hair salty, i returned home feeling like i’d been gone for a month. not all vacations can feel this restorative, but lord knows i am forever chasing the feeling (and feeling so damn lucky i can afford to do so).

all of this is a very long winded way of saying:

we’ve booked another trip! our dates are similar to last year—a week in late august—and my trajectory is similar, too. i’ll be flying in and out of paris, spending a night there on each end to break up the travel. from there, i’ll head to amboise in the loire valley, where i’ve booked a cute lil airbnb (so much cheaper than the hotels in the area!) right in town—so close to the wedding venue i can literally walk there, which…bless! then it’s back to paris on a morning train sunday, and straight to CDG, where i’ll hop on a smaller flight to olbia. that’s right, friends: this time, we’re headed to SARDINIA! my friend elena is from modena, and as such, speaks fluent italian. lucky us! she and james have found us a house 5 minutes from the beach, and i imagine our days and nights will look quite similar to our time in corsica: morning coffees, afternoons at the beach, evenings at home cooking dinner. we’ve got a pool for when our skin gets tired of the sand, and cute lil italian rooms to snooze in come evening, and i! can’t! wait! i had a brief moment of guilt starting my new job this week—how dare i take vacation just a few months in?!—but then i remembered: we have unlimited PTO, and i am a senior level creative who is perfectly capable of hustling before and after her time off to ensure she leaves the team in a good spot. and also: we only live once! and as i said: if you give a mouse a castle cookie, that mouse absolutely MUST extend the trip! in other words: if i’m paying $1k (god help me) to fly across the pond, you best believe i am making the most of my time over there.

atrocious flight costs aside, i’ve had such a fab time planning the rest of the journey. i’ve scoped out two new to me parisian boutique hotels—taking into account arrondisements that are close-ish to the gare du montparnasse on the way in (so that i can easily get to my train to amboise friday morning) and CDG on the way out (this is more of a stretch, but…technically i’m on the right side of the river!). as i said above, i found the cutest little apartment in amboise on airbnb, and am paying $400 for two nights vs. $450+ a night at a hotel. i’ve got my round trip flights from paris to olbia booked (i snagged them as soon as tickets dropped below 300 euro!) and am watching the delta itinerary i want to/from paris juuuust in case it drops a teensy bit (a girl can dream!). all that’s left are rental cars and train tickets—the easy peasy stuff.

i swear i may have been a travel agent in another life because i could do this type of thing ALL DAY LONG! which reminds me: since you get this newsletter in your inbox, you may not know that there’s a lil “homepage” for big feelings, where i’ve organized all my 5+ years of content for your browsing pleasure! along the top (what we in the industry call “the nav” aka navigation), you’ll see we’ve got a few things:

• podcast aka my bf on audio voice notes (a new feature i’m excited about!)

• meet sarah in case you’re new here!

• the archive, which is ALL THE PODCASTS AND BOOKS I’VE EVER SHARED HERE, organized by mood/vibe—shows/movies to come soon, too!

then we’ve got content areas, so you can browse by what you’re in the mood to read. we’ve got essays on career, as well as travel guides, gift guides, and year in review content. in short: there’s so much good stuff to discover! i’ve just made it a lil bit easier to find.

ps: “Archive” and “the archive” are different things. substack won’t let me change their “archive” title, so that one = a list of all old posts, in order. “the archive” = an archive of all the recommendations i’ve shared over the last 5 years. that’s the good stuff!

as i said in my latest bf on audio post, i can feel my creativity seeping back into my veins, and man, does it feel good. i’ve been writing more here, sharing more on instagram, brainstorming ways to organize this newsletter and make it better for you, the readers. it’s been vulnerable and scary but also really, really fun. i imagine i’ll continue to iterate and experiment as i find the flow that works best, but for now: thank you for reading, thank you for giving the newsletter a lil heart each time you do (this is what helps it grow, so it’s both easy to do and oh so helpful!), and thank you for being the kind, genuine, damn good humans i just KNOW you are.

speaking of creativity: i’ve long wanted to make big feelings merch. partially because i love my logo, and partially because i feel like all my fellow empaths would rock the shit out of a big feelings canvas tote at the farmers/flea/supermarket. i’ve done a tiny bit of digging re: getting a limited run of tote bags made, and have started (very roughly) playing around with designs. i’m popping my (shitty!) WIPs below. if i were to do this, i’d (obviously) work with a designer to make them sing. think: screen-printed, perfect lipstick red color, design options, etc.

tell me: would you buy a bf tote?

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now, let’s get into our recs!

i’m a huge fan of dianna cohen, who founded my favorite haircare brand, crown affair (i use and love their leave-in conditioner, hair mask, and hair towel). dianna’s eye for design, marketing savvy, and general perspective around creativity is a wonder to behold, so i was thrilled to hear she was launching a podcast. take your time is an extension of dianna’s incredible newsletter, in which she writes about everything from the magic of moodboarding to her love of jim henson. her eye is impeccable and her taste is top notch. working in advertising, i’m always on the lookout for brands, founders and creatives who are doing the thing in a way that feels aligned with their values instead of their algorithm. dianna is that person (or at least, so it seems on the internet!). for her first take your time episode, she chats with ara katz, the founder of seed, a fellow founder and creative who she considers her mentor. though it would have been easy to make this a “tell us about your career trajectory” interview, dianna doesn’t take the easy way out. instead, her conversation with ara bobs and weaves—they discuss how ara’s early experiences with grief shaped her wordview, how she turned to creativity as a means of survival as a child (this resonated with me—creativity as a safe space). they discuss the importance of quiet, intuition, and trusting oneself. and yes, they do discuss how ara built the incredible brand that is seed. if you’re a creative person, or you dream of founding your own company someday, this one is for you!

listen here

ps: other episodes i enjoyed this week included this live interview with dakota fanning on awards chatter, this episode of the wirecutter show about people who literally dumpster dive for a living (!!), SVU’s kelli giddish on work in progress, and millennial finance expert ramit sethi on the interview (side note: i spent hours over break getting my budget + finances + savings plan in order, and i gotta say: it feels GOOD.)

i went into this novel a little bit blind, having seen it recommended (though i can’t recall where), and i’m glad i did. because the twist, when it comes, isn’t one i saw coming. it’s not even one i’m sure i would have believed if you’d told it to me ahead of time! i know, i know. that tells you absolutely nothing about the book beyond that you shouldn’t read too much about it before you dive in. here is what you should know: this is a psychological thriller, and it’s the perfect thing to read if you need a literary follow up to love story on fx.

the wielands have it all: old-money wealth. status. power. they’re also—much like kennedy family—cursed. clara and her brother teddy grew up on a small maine island haunted by the tragic death of their parents, who passed away before clara’s eyes in an accident so horrific, it has divided her life into before and after. fourteen years later, they’ve (mostly) put their turbulent past to rest. teddy has married clara’s best friend, jess, and the three have moved back home to take over their family’s sprawling, remote mansion. clara, who has battled an eating disorder ever since her parents passed, is eating again. teddy and jess are happy. the three live in relative harmony at vantage point, far away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

then teddy decides to run for senate. he’s tall, he’s handsome, he’s charming. why shouldn’t he? clara knows why: because they are cursed. when intimate videos of clara are leaked online—videos she doesn’t remember filming—clara spirals. are they real? are they fake? is someone trying to take them down once and for all? both teddy and jess think clara is losing her grip on reality. after all: she has before. but clara knows the truth: the videos are just the beginning. the curse is coming for all of them.

i stayed up way too late last night finishing, and can’t recommend it enough for my fellow literary thriller lovers. the prose is chef’s kiss!

get it on amazon | get it on bookshop

ps: if you’re a big reader, check out the library—a full archive of all the books i’ve recommended here on big feelings, sorted by genre and mood!

does anyone have any hacks re: how to watch british tv shows here in the US? i really want to watch believe me—a miniseries based on the true story of the victims of john worboys—on ITV. the series follows two women who fought for justice after the metropolitan police failed to properly investigate their rape allegations, leaving worboys free to assault other women for years. annnd it stars aimée-ffion edwards, who i love on slow horses (one of my other fave british shows!). perhaps it’ll come to netflix soon?! ‘til then: help a girl out if you’ve got a hack!

psst! if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on IG stories or substack notes—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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sometimes a recipe just hits. and this one? this one does just that. it’s from yasmin fahr, one of my favorite cooks to follow on nyt cooking, and is both as simple as it comes and a total flavor bomb. white miso, butter, lime juice—and a handful of other ingredients—turn garden variety radishes (and any other roastable veg; i added sweet potato to mine!) + chicken into an absolutely delicious dinner. i’ve made this one again and again, and it never gets old. it’s the perfect early spring/summer recipe, what with the umami of the miso and the tart, fresh, zesty lime. for those who don’t know (i didn’t before i made this recipe): radishes, when roasted in butter, become incredibly, delectably sweet! WHO KNEW?! make it for dinner this week, and report back.

get the recipe

got aspirations of doen on dime store budget? giiirl, me too. i happened to pop into old navy last sunday on a whim (i was in chelsea shopping for modge podge at michael’s, as one does), and can i just say: the old navy/gap/banana family of brands is KILLING IT LATELY. my gut is that it’s because gap inc brought in zac posen as creative director, and he’s, well, a visionary. anywho! i’ve purchased a few things from gap for spring but have been sleeping on old navy. my mistake, friends! because there was SO MUCH CUTE STUFF in store. i spent under $100 total, and walked out with the verrrry doen-esque lace-y tie tank you see above (it’s way prettier than the photo shows, i promise), a gingham skort that is sadly sold out in most sizes but available in other prints, and a red romper i can’t seem to find online. i also spotted these lace shorts, which are an excellent dupe for my (way more expensive) ones from reformation. if you find yourself near an old navy, go in! you’ll be delighted by the summer goodness.

just like doen, for less

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

how much does a girl have to save to get her own custom belmond train car?! what a dream!

little nolitas everywhere. i loved this piece from nymag re: why every shopping street suddenly mirrors elizabeth street in nolita (coincidentally, i do love elizabeth street).

love lessons from ramy youssef’s dog on modern love. those who know me know: my cats are my life. this pod hit hard!

can’t wait to make this mango chicken salad.

happy hoteling is one of my new favorite newsletters—so many incredible boutique hotels to add to your wishlist!

cursive clubs for kids! the art of handwriting! gah, i love this so much! i dream of turning my handwriting into a font i can use for this newsletter - someday!

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

ICYMI, here a few newsletter issues you might like.

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i’m writing to you bright and early on a sunday morning. 7:27 am, to be exact. rather than pushing my jet-lagged brain to stay up a bit later each night, i’ve been doing the exact opposite, and leaning into the early of it all. my first night home, i made it to 8pm. the next night, 8:30. the latest i’ve stayed up since? a whopping 9:30pm, like the grandma i am deep down inside. and i’m kind of loving it. i’ve always been a morning person—the type of person who functions best before much of the world is awake, who does her best thinking in the early hours, while the sun is rising and the coffee is hot and the birds are singing sweet songs out the window. i wrote the entirety of not one but two novel drafts between the hours of 7-9am, before my day job started, so i suppose it’s no surprise that i find myself thriving right now. this morning, i slept the latest i have since arriving back home from paris, waking at 6am on the dot. by 7, i had fresh coffee, my laundry was in, my dishwasher was emptied, and the cats were fed. and now, here i sit, ready to write to you! now that it’s 7:30, the world is waking up. i hear the chatter of neighbors out in my courtyard, the rattling of our incredible maintenance men transferring our broken down packages and plastic recycling out to the street. my fan is whirring, the sun seems to be trying to come out, and i am—incredibly, shockingly, having published an essay i was scared to publish yesterday—feeling amazingly calm.

after a month off, i start my new job tomorrow (!)

more to come on that once i know what i’m in for, but suffice it to say: what an absolute gift this break has been. as i wrote about in earlier issues, my prior job—the one i thought would be my new home—was…decidedly not it. in the year and change i spent there, i felt my self getting beaten down in a way that scared me. a way that was a warning sign. a way that said, in the immortal words of taylor allison swift: i think i’ve seen this film before, and i didn’t like the ending.

but! the beauty of going through hard things in life is that the next time they happen to us, we are better prepared. we can see the burnout coming. we can feel the tectonic plates of our bodies and our souls shifting, feel that telltale tingle, and say to ourselves, not this time.

a few years ago, when i quit my (nearly a decade-long, home away from home) job, i agonized over the decision. if there was a word stronger than agonize, if agonize came with teeth and white hot pokers, i’d use that instead. it was the hardest decision i have ever made, and it is—without a doubt—the decision that saved my mental health. well, that and lots of therapy about perfectionism and wanting to do things “right.” when i quit that job, my friend beth said something to me i’ve never forgotten:

i’ve quit plenty of jobs. YOU CAN ALWAYS QUIT A JOB.

she said it with such confidence, with such…pizzazz, with such chutzpah. as though quitting a job was the most natural thing in the world. beth, a creative like me, who has worked in magazines and in-house, who is an absolute PRO at her job, has left jobs before, and will leave jobs again. because beth knows her worth.

at the time, i could not fathom this notion. in leaving my job, i had reduced myself to a shell of a human. i was grieving, i was shaken, i was hanging on for dear life. i was grappling with whether my identity would still exist without it, which sounds disgusting and absurd and insanely capitalistic to say—but it is the truth.

but today? two years after the leaving shattered me? i have put myself back together again. and now, i am not some reassembled shell, just waiting for a small tap to crack the whole of my body open. now, i am a tough cookie! a tough cookie who still feels every damn thing (and a lot of damn things absorbed from the world around her). but a tough cookie nonetheless. one who can stand up for her values and her team and take the proverbial bullet and not lay awake at night ruminating over what she said a million times over. one who knows: you can always leave. one who champions not just her team, but herself.

i don’t think i could have learned this lesson without going through what i have the past two years.

it would have been easier to learn it literally other way than trial by fire. but heat is what hardens clay. what makes it not unbreakable, but stronger, less malleable, more resolute in the shape of its being.

and so, here i go, starting yet another new thing, hoping/praying/believing this time, it’ll fit. maybe not immediately, likely not perfectly, but well enough. i’ll be doing it with my art partner and dear friend by my side (we’re planning on taking the train into the office together tomorrow 👯‍♀️), and dare i say, i’m feeling…REALLY EXCITED! excited for the creative and strategic challenges that lie ahead. excited to meet new people, and show them what i’ve got. excited to feel like things are hard, but good hard, fizzy light up your brain like a firecracker hard. i’m excited to feel things click in that magical way all good ideas do eventually.

here’s to a new chapter. may it be the start of the book i always wanted to read.

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now, let’s get into our recs!

i’ll admit: i was just going to ship the i changed my mind essay yesterday and let this week’s recs fall by the wayside. but then my mom texted me asking where all the recs were. and because she is my mother (and today is mother’s day!), i couldn’t let that ask go! so: recs she (and you!) shall have.

my group chat had a lot to say about NYT’s list of 30 greatest living american songwriters—mostly about who we felt was missing from the list. i was, of course, thrilled to see my girl taylor represented (say what you will about her, but the woman is an incredible songwriter!), but would have added maggie rogers, florence welch, brandi carlile, and maybe my guy john mayer. my friend arden was shocked to see billy joel omitted, and would’ve included beck, ben folds, and steven tyler. scott felt it “sanitized” the list to leave kanye off, but invalidated it from a purely creative perspective, and was surprised not to see eminem’s name. all of us were thrilled to see fiona apple make the cut.

as my friend amanda said when she sent it: there’s something in here for everyone! the list itself is worth a read if you missed it, but this episode of the daily, in which michael barbaro talks to a few of the folks who were in the room whilst the list was being compiled, is an excellent listen either way. in it, the reporters explain who they polled, and why they left off the folks they did (there’s a reason joel didn’t make the cut!). plus, there are some choice interview clips with my girl taylor and with jay-z.

listen here

ps: other podcast episodes i enjoyed this week included this episode of second life with rachel hochhouser, who might just have my dream career trajectory (advertising —> creative co-founder —> author), this girls gotta eat episode with hayley sacks, aka mrs. dow jones on how to become a rich person (guess who officially opened a separate HYSA to save for her upstate house?!), and this episode of awards chatter with the INCREDIBLE audra mcdonald, who is just…a marvel.

am i the only one who reads books set in the places they’re traveling while they’re there? when i got to paris, i did a quick search for historical fiction books about the city and quickly realized i had read oh so many of them (the paris wife, the paris daughter, the paris novel…). hey, i like what i like! a deeper scroll revealed this 2020 novel from ariel lawhon, who wrote frozen river (a book i LOVED), which i decided to snag as an audiobook, so that i could listen to it as i strolled. code name helene is nearly 500 pages long, and still, i managed to listen to it in its entirety during my week in paris (i logged a lot of steps!).

it’s based on the incredible true story of socialite nancy wake, who operated as a spy during WWII, saving thousands of people from the nazis in partnership with resistance networks across france, where she lived with her husband, henri. as the book opens, it’s 1936, and nancy is an australian expat living in paris who has hustled her way into a reporting job for hearst newspapers. after witnessing a terrifying event in vienna whilst reporting, nancy realizes: the horrors she has been hearing about are real, even if the papers won’t publish them. and she must do everything she can to fight the brownshirts leaching their way across europe, pillaging everything and everyone in their path.

told in interweaving timelines organized around the four code names nancy adopted whilst working for the resistance, code name helene is a story of bravery, love, and sacrifice in a time of war. i went into the novel not realizing it was based on a real person, and gasped aloud when that fact was revealed in the author’s note at the end. i can’t wait to research nancy wake further (HISTORICAL PODCAST HERE I COME!), but in the meantime: if you like historical fiction, or if you enjoyed frozen river—READ THIS BOOK! i loved it on audio, if that’s your listening style of choice.

get it on amazon | get it on bookshop

ps: if you’re a big reader, follow me on goodreads! i try and rank/save every book i read (i read 81 in 2025!)

my friend molly and i saw the devil wears prada 2 yesterday, and friends: I LOVED IT. oh my god i loved it SO MUCH!

i went in with the expectation of just being whelmed, because sequels so rarely hit the way the originals do. but this one?! this one was a smart, funny, self-aware take on where runway and its beloved cast of characters has ended up 20 years later. the writing is *chef’s kiss*; each line felt both right on the money and right for the character saying it—something i think lo so many sequels and reboots struggle with. i recall feeling disappointed in and just like that precisely for that reason: the writing was shity. the characters didn’t seem like themselves. but here, in the devil wears prada 2, everyone felt like exactly who i’d have expected them to be 20 years later. andy sachs is still a little bit (ok, a lot bit) cringe—but smart, and thoughtful, with a good heart. miranda is still a badass with a hard shell exterior and a soft gushy center. nigel is still the cream of the crop, the quiet good soldier with a heart of gold. emily ending up at dior but wanting something different?

i also loved the tertiary characters and how they contributed to the storyline—the mackenzie scott-esque role and how she saves the day. the andy as amy odell (a la the anna wintour biography). it all just felt so right. i want to see it over and over again! it’s still in theaters, so if you haven’t seen it yet: get thee to your local regal/AMC/et al!

psst! if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on IG stories or substack notes—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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i went a little bit ham at le grande epicerie whilst buying french butter to bring home. but with good reason! case in point: on thursday evening, i used the two bars of of madagascar vanilla butter (!!!!) i’d stashed in my suitcase to make a batch of alison roman’s chocolate chip shortbread cookies and friends: wow. just WOW! proof that better butter really does change the game. this is one of my favorite not too sweet but still sweet cookie recipes, and the butter just really upped the ante on deliciousness.

next time you visit paris, make sure you carve out time to stock up on butter at LGE. they’ll shrink wrap it for you after you check out, then you can put it in the freezer, and pack it in your checked baggage, where it’ll stay cold (ish) on your journey home.

get the recipe

bandanas and scarves (along with glittery socks) were all the rage in paris, and suffice it to say, i have returned home wishing i had an entire drawer of them. my instagram algorithm seems to know this, because it has been serving me this beautiful embroidered bandana over and over again since i’ve returned home. at $50 a pop, it’s a splurge, and an unnecessary one—but i had to share it with you because i think it’s so pretty, and perhaps you will, too! my plan is to keep my eye out for an actual vintage version, then attempt some DIY embroidery on my own. i’ve got an entire folder full of bandanas saved on etsy now (oops), but am keeping my eye out at flea markets and such for the next few months in hopes i can find one in person. the thrill of the hunt!

she's perfect

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

i really loved this piece from on taking her kids to the yucatan. you all know how much i love mexico, and i love seeing other people experience it!

said piece reminded me just how special the city of merida is. i spent a week there in 2022 (i think?!) and am dying to return. i’ll be using this as my guide when i do!

oooh, a new, chic fitbit is coming!! this might be my next tech-y purchase (i LOVE my fitbit.

’s best shopping street in nyc (i cosign this list!).

we love delta. we hate delta. i love delta, but i admit: i am constantly chasing their quickly disappearing (except for the elite) perks.

in defense of that NYT songwriters list (video).

this ode to ’s grandma’s house is a beautiful one (the photos!).

speaking of beautiful house…a british DREAM!

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

ICYMI, here a few newsletter issues you might like.

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{if reading about weight, body image, or glp-1 medications is is triggering for you, you might want to skip this post.}

want to listen to this essay instead of read it? scroll down to the bottom, and hit play—i’ve recorded the entire piece, along with a little intro, for paid subscribers.

why are you crying?

i was on a video visit with my primary care physician of 18 years—the doctor who has seen me in every stage of my adult life, the doctor who has been mine since i moved to new york way back in 2008. the doctor who has seen me gain weight and lose it again, seen me try one workout fad after another, who has watched as i’ve morphed from a person who believed herself inherently un-athletic to a person who ran (legitimately ran!) an entire 5k on a frigid february day. a doctor who knows me, even when i don’t want her to. even when it feels embarrassing to be known.

i was crying because i had—after years of ruminating, weeks of agonizing, and an entire lifetime of feeling like i was never at home in my body, like my body was something i had to constantly apologize for, like i was at war with it—gotten up the courage to ask her what she thought about my trying a glp-1.

i’ve written extensively about body image here on big feelings. my body is, in many ways, the thing i have the most big feelings about. more than my career, more than my (lack of) love life, more than my sensitivity or my desire to be seen, body image is—and has always been, for as long as i can remember—my thing. my body is the shell that carries me through this life, and it is the thing that impacts every single aspect of that life.

i imagine i’m not alone in saying i can recall a slate of things people have said to me about the way i look.

i’ll pay you $10 for every pound you lose. my grandmother, when i hit puberty and started gaining weight (i was unhappy and secretly binge-eating candy i purchased with my allowance at the convenience store down the street from my piano lessons, then stashing the wrappers under my bed so that no one would see them). this same grandmother had told me repeatedly as a child that she survived as a dress model in new york on “1/2 a cup of buttermilk and little else.”

move your fat ass! a stranger on the m23 bus, when i didn’t get down the aisle fast enough. i remember this moment distinctly, viscerally, like a photograph i can superimpose myself into at any given time. i was wearing a pair of men’s jeans i had purchased at the salvation army and cut into shorts, because i felt menswear to be more forgiving. i had never before thought of my ass as particularly problematic, it was my stomach i had always hated (it is still my stomach that i despise today).

sit ups. you should do some. one of the earliest messages i received when i downloaded tinder. sent without explanation, because was an explanation really needed?

why was i crying?

the better question, perhaps, was how could i not cry in this moment?

how could i not cry when this single statement (i’ve been thinking about trying a glp-1, and i wanted your take on it) held an entire lifetime of fear, and disappointment, and shame?

this single statement was the scariest possible thing i could say aloud, because it meant admitting that i, too, had fallen prey to the oldest trick in the book. that i had given into patriarchal framing that my body was a tool to be whittled and wielded as a means of power (if only i could get it to obey).

it is hard to explain to people who have not been heavy what it is like to move through the world in a bigger body.

what it’s like to question every single bite of food you put into your mouth.

what it’s like to eat something and then immediately berate yourself for doing so, to berate yourself literally while you are chewing, and wonder if it’s too late to spit it out.

what it’s like to go out on dates, or go out with your friends, and analyze not just what you order, but how much of it you consume.

what it’s like to look at your friends and marvel.

at the friends who can eat anything they want, eat more than you, and never gain a pound.

the ones who do not constantly pull at their clothes or suck in their stomachs.

who raise their arms without thinking because what does it matter if their tops ride up?

it is hard to overstate just how much my body has weighed on me.

how much brain space it has taken up over the course of my 40 years on this earth.

how mindful i am of every wrinkle, fold, and skin tag.

how conscious i am of the way i move in a yoga class or on a spin bike, of the way my chest bounces when i run along the east river, of the way my cellulite jiggles when i deign to go to the beach.

it is not that i haven’t worked hard to accept my body—accepting my body is the work of my life—but that it is hard, hard work.

this is why i was crying at my breakfast bar at 8am on a friday morning in late june. because this question wasn’t just big. it was the biggest.

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every episode worth listening to, curated by topic—because sometimes you want to learn, sometimes you want to laugh, and every so often, you want to go down a true crime rabbit hole.

this post will be updated every few weeks with the latest and greatest!

bone valley listen here

deep cover: the truth about sarah listen here

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i hope you’ll forgive this post being a day late, and also forgive the fact that i’m going to try and keep it short, as i’m here in paris for the week and want to make the most of my time! the capricorn in me cannot bear to shirk my newsletter responsibilities (especially when i’ve been working so hard in the background to up the ante on my presence here), but suffice it to say: i’ve got places to go (a train to giverny in a few hours) and people to see (with my friend molly)! so many places to go, in fact, that i! am! pooped! after running into an old friend on my flight (she was my seatmate, can you believe it?!), i managed to sleep 5ish hours on my red eye over here, and arrived slightly bleary-eyed and less than bushy-tailed around 2pm on thursday. i contemplated a nap, then reminded myself: the best way to do the damn thing is to power through. jet lag, schmet lag! i am an experienced traveler, i know this!

and so: power through i did. that first day, and then again on friday, where i managed to stay awake for a post-dinner cocktail at this excellent speakeasy molly’s friend recommended, annnnnd yesterday, where i awoke around 7:45am, ever so slightly hungover (this is 40) and got myself together to leave for the flea. more on that when we get into the photo diary, but it was a magical morning, and i will be returning home with many treasures! all for around 100 euro, total. after the flea, i came home to the apartment i’m staying in, changed into a tank top (we’ve had blazing sun two days in a row, though now it is raining), and went back out to shop my way through a handful of stores that had been on my list, then back home again to change + hop on the bus for dinner + a river cruise.

whew! i’m tired just typing all that out. travel is so soul-filling for me, but mama mia, i am…sleepy. i’m sure this morning’s weather isn’t helping, though there’s something incredibly romantic about paris in rain—all the buildings look like blurred paintings through my windows, and there’s a quiet to the city i’ve not seen before. all this is to say: i had a hankering to try and go for a rainy run before we leave for the train station this morning, but then i realized:

i am doing the thing that i always do, and trying to cram too many activities into one day.

i would be better served by knowing that my zillions of steps over the past few days = a workout, and more importantly: i could use the time before the train (and on it, if need be) to make myself a coffee, then sit down and write.

and here we are! i have made myself a lil european nespresso, sweetened with sugar i bought at the franprix and lightened with milk because i couldn’t read the labels well enough to understand what was cream. i’ve even got my little travel candle lit beside me (this one; highly recommend packing a travel candle—it’s comfort in a tin!). it’s like my usual saturday morning, except it’s sunday, and i’m sitting at someone else’s dining table instead of my own breakfast bar.

but no matter—a place to write is a place to write. and write we (i) shall.

before we get into our recs this week, i thought i’d give you a taste of paris.

shall we?

{left to right, top row}

are these women not incredibly chic? i spotted them on rue saint honore on friday en route to the luxembourg gardens, and couldn’t resist snapping a photo.

i’m here as part of a house swap (i belong to a site for creatives!), which means the owner here is in my place in nyc. house swapping requires faith and trust in strangers, which can be nerve-wracking (my kitties!). but the rewards are, well, extremely rewarding. look at this place! i’m writing to you from that dining room table.

this cafe is around the corner from me, and i’ve bookmarked it for my next morning coffee.

{left to right, middle row}

the doors of paris are a sight to behold. 50% of the photos i’ve taken thus far have been exactly like this one.

happy girl strolling through the jardin du palais royal yesterday en route to astier de villate, where i rarely buy anything, but love to look.

this green space is right across from the apartment i’m staying in. every night when i return from dinner, it’s still light out (at 9pm!), and the grass is covered with picnickers.

{left to right, bottom rom}

i’m right around the corner from rue cler, a historic street home to boulangeries, fruit sellers, patisseries, and more. on my first day, i walked over and got myself a hunk of cheese, a baguette, and a thing of strawberries. et voila, lunch!

took the long way home from the luxembourg gardens on friday and felt like i was strolling through a film set.

on the evening of my arrival, molly found a cute lil square for us to dine in. this was the inside of the restaurant - tres chic, right? i loved the bookshelves.

{left to right, top row}

as you may recall from last weekend’s newsletter, i’ve been in PT for a knee/hamstring injury for nearly 5 months. all i wanted was to be well enough to run (walk/run, but still!) in paris, and on friday morning, i did just that. i ran along the seine, i ran to the eiffel tower. it! was! magical!

my post-run coffee shop. chic, delicious. i’d forgotten just how good a whole milk latte is. when in rome (paris)!

we had two days in a row of bluebird skies. not a cloud in sight!

{left to right, middle row}

like i said: my photos are 50% doors, but…can you BELIEVE this one? zoom in on your screen to peep the detailing. those wavy windows, be still my heart!

last night, on a tourist-y river cruise of the seine, attempting to drink the world’s most disgusting (free) rose. reader: i did not even remotely finish that glass.

my apartment is right near the tour de eiffel (hence the running route). this photo was snapped literally around the corner from me!

i’m on a rare trip in which i feel i packed perfectly! medium checked bag, extra weekend stashed within to bring home all my goodies, a good amount of outfits but not too many outfits. this one, with these checkered pants (still such a great buy), is my favorite thus far. ps: this was snapped on the bus, which i’ve been taking along with the metro. paris has SUCH great public transit!

more! doors!

i sort of regret not buying this cafe tin at the flea yesterday. it was 20 euro, and i didn’t need it because it doesn’t quite fit my decor (nor that of my sister’s house). but now i’m like: i should have gotten it anyway because it’s perfect. alas! i could share a dozen more photos, but i imagine you’re ready for this week’s recs.

before we get into that, a bit of (fun!) housekeeping.

in case you missed it, i’ve been using my time off to put some brainpower behind how to make the paid tier here really sing. in the last few days, i’ve:

• turned on my subscriber chat (come hang!)

• sent out a (free) post detailing what’s to come for paid subscribers (you can read/listen to (!) that here)

• published the first of a series of detailed archive posts (for paid subscribers)—a looong, organized list of ALL the books i’ve ever recommended here (aka 5 years worth of recs)

• up next: podcast + tv show archives

to all those who’ve already upgraded their subscriptions: thank you! i’m so glad you’re here.

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friends: if you genuinely enjoy this newsletter, will you a) tap the little heart at the bottom and b) consider sharing it on your IG stories or forwarding along to a friend?

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now, let’s get into our recs!

excuse my french, but: this story is fucking CRAZY. it might come as a surprise to you, given my relatively low-brow taste in many things, that i am not at all into reality tv (save for HGTV & magnolia-style shows). which means i’ve never watched love island, or summer house, or the bachelor. which means i had never heard of clayton echard, who was a contestant on season 18 of the bachelorette, and then THE bachelor himself on season 26 of the series. but when i tell you i have been transfixed by love trapped, which is a podcast that breaks down clayton’s legal battle against laura owens, a woman he hooked up with once (!), did not have sex with, and still somehow ended up in an insane paternity fight with. friends: if you’ve been listening to this, we MUST DISCUSS.

generally speaking, i ascribe to the believe all women gospel. but laura owens? laura owens makes that difficult. never in my life have i encountered such a manipulative, infuriating, honestly gut-wrenching story. this podcast will have you stopping on the street saying things like, oh my god no she did NOT. and: holy shit. HOLY! SHIT! as my dear friend hannah texted me: UNHINGED!

listen here

pps: other podcast episodes i enjoyed this week included mariska hargitay on awards chatter (her stories re: chris meloni are chef’s kiss!), this episode of good hang featuring jon hamm (what a treasure that man is), this wirecutter ep on mother’s day gifting, and the culture study podcast on the content-ification of wedding culture.

i’m about 3/4 of the way through this incredible novel, which my friend jill recommended to our book club chat, and i can’t stop thinking about it. good people is the story of a family who experiences a tragedy, and how those in their life bear witness to it. or is it? a stunning game of “literary ping pong”, this is a multi-POV novel unlike any other, which is to say: it’s the story of the sharaf family, as told by their friends, their neighbors, the media—everyone but the sharaf family themselves.

the sharaf family came to the united states from afghanistan with little more than the clothes on their backs. from there, they built the type of life people dream of. they are rich. prosperous. happy. their children want for nothing; they live in a beautiful house in the most beautiful neighborhood. they have it all. zorah, their eldest daughter, is the apple of her family’s eye. that is until she begins misbehaving, doing things that bring shame on her family.

when tragedy strikes, the family is thrust into the court of public opinion, and suddenly, we readers are left to wonder: was the sharaf house a happy home? or has something horrific happened behind closed doors? their friends, their neighbors—all have an opinion on who the sharafs really were. who zorah really was.

i cannot put this book down, and think it would make an incredible book club read!

get it on amazon | get it on bookshop

ps: if you’re a big reader, follow me on goodreads! i try and rank/save every book i read (i read 81 in 2025!)

i cannot believe we have to wait until JULY for silo to return. from the looks of this season three teaser, the post-apocalyptic appletv+ show is taking a page out of paradise's book, and going back in time to show us how, exactly, the people of the silos got there. for the uninitiated, silo is the story of the last ten thousand people on earth—who live in a mile-deep home that protects them from the toxic wasteland that is the outside. no one who lives there knows when the silo was built. no one knows why. anyone who tries to find out faces deadly consequences (as seen in the first season of the show). rebecca ferguson is an absolute marvel as juliette, an engineer born and raised in the silo who seeks answers about a loved one’s murder, and finds herself tumbling headfirst into a mystery that goes far further than she could ever have imagined. silo is dystopian, yes—but it’s also a story of survival, power dynamics, class warfare, and more. it’s one of my favorite shows of the last few years, and now, you’ve got a few months to catch up before the new season premieres. go forth and watch!

watch it here

psst! if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on IG stories or substack notes—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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it feels fitting that i’m sharing this ice cream recipe today, as it’s an adaptation of a recipe from david lebovitz, a chef i’ve long loved who just so happens to live in paris! david’s book the perfect scoop is the perfect starting point for ice cream newbies—though i’m here to tell you: making this summery treat truly isn’t that hard! i’ve owned this $60 apartment-friendly ice cream maker for a decade and love it. pair that with david’s book (and/or the recipe below), and you’re in business. anywho! a few weeks ago, new york had a spate of summery days. think: 80+ degree weather, slight humidity, brilliant sunshine. and of course, when summer hits, all i can think about is ice cream. i’ve been very into mint chip lately, a flavor i never order at an ice cream shop but often buy pints of at my local grocery store. after realizing i had peppermint extract in my spice drawer (i always have chocolate, no need to check on that front), i realized: i could adapt my usual vanilla recipe from david’s book to add mint and chocolate!

since you don’t yet own the book, i’ll link his vanilla recipe below. to adapt, simple add your peppermint extract (to taste!) during the “infusion period” aka, the point in time where you’re letting the milk, sugar, and cream mixture cool with a vanilla bean (or vanilla extract/vanilla bean paste, if you don’t have a bean) cool. i decided to do my usual tsp of vanilla bean paste (i use this one) and add my extract, but you do you! you could opt out of vanilla and go full minty, if you preferred.

as for the chocolate: chop up a bar of semi sweet or dark. in a pinch, you can also chop up semisweet chips (this is what i had in my freezer). you’ll add those in towards the end of your churning time.

trust me when i say: ice cream is not hard to make. it is a process, yes—and one that requires a watchful eye, especially when it comes to making your custard. but it’s OH SO REWARDING. go forth and churn!!

ps: this recipe will make about a quart of ice cream. i store mine in these.

get the recipe

i’ll be putting together a full list of my paris shopping recs for paid subscribers. but i simply had to show you the gift i bought myself (well, let’s be real: i bought multiple gifts for myself, esp at the flea). it’s a glass pencil/pen jar from marin montagut, one of my favorite gift-y shops i visited this time around. MM has been on my list for a while now, but i didn’t manage to make it here last summer. yesterday, i organized my entire afternoon walk around a stop into the shop, ostensibly with the goal of picking up a few presents. but when i saw this “le chat” glass filled with colorful pencils atop a display case, i knew: i had to get it. i mean: i am a cat lady to beat all cat ladies! how could i not?! imagine my dismay, then, when i pivoted over to the wall of glasses (there are dozens of designs, all of them are handblown; no two are exactly alike) and saw no le chats in sight. thankfully, a kind salesgirl scoured some hidden shelves, and then a stockroom next door, and managed to find a set of 6 for me to peruse. i selected one, she wrapped it up, and i happily walked away with a gift for my cat-loving self + a series of gifts for friends back home. a successful shopping trip, indeed!

a positively perfect gift

ps: the sweatshirt i linked last week, the white cropped eyelet one? i ordered it, it arrived just before paris, and it’s PERFECT. it’s also currently on sale. i paid full price, but may bring it to gap and ask for a partial refund since it went on sale so soon after i purchased. either way: my mistake is your win, because you can snag it for half off!

a positively perfect sweatshirt

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

via carota’s house dressing, made at home.

the comments alone are worth a read in this piece on getting botox in your thirties (i get it in my forehead, despite swearing i would NEVER EVER EVER be a person who does such a thing).

on memoirs about female ambition. SUCH A GOOD READ.

a choir of 500 sings the cranberries dreams. thank you to IG follower who sent me this!).

did you catch the trailer for peacock’s adaptation of the five star weekend by elin hilderbrand? i can’t wait!

LOVED seeing ’s “week of outfits” on cup of jo.

stephanie danler is one of my favorite writers. she doesn’t post on her substack often, but when she does, it’s a beauty of a piece like this one, on belonging to new york.

very tempted by these $98 red poplin pants.

this insanely fancy new hudson new york hotel looks unreal.

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

ICYMI, here a few newsletter issues you might like.

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five years of reading, all in one place, organized by vibe — because sometimes you need a thriller and sometimes you need a good cry and sometimes you need both at once.

this post will be updated every few weeks with the latest and greatest!

so old, so young — grant ginder get it here

the heir apparent — rebecca armitage get it here

the force of such beauty — barbara bourland get it here

Read more

hit play above to hear the rambling, nitty gritty behind this process, but suffice it to say: it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day….and i’m feeling EXTREMELY NERVOUS AND VERY VULNERABLE.

introducing: the bffs ✨

starting today, paid subscribers to big feelings are officially the BFFs.

think: big feelings, but better. think: my internet besties. think: a suite of exclusive benefits that—i hope—make your $5/month feel worth it.

here’s what bffs will get:

the back catalog. and by that i mean: access to every single issue i’ve ever written over the last 5 years.

but even more exciting? i’ve gone through that back catalog and curated a series of archive posts that collate my recs for books, podcasts, tv shows, and recipes—organized by vibe, fully searchable, and updated each week when a new rec rolls in. i’ll be dropping the first four above later this weekend, with travel and gift guides coming soon. consider it your personal encyclopedia of all the things i love.

a monthly voice memo. not a podcast. not produced, not polished, not edited. just me, talking to you, about whatever is living rent-free in my head that month — something i’m working through, something i noticed, something i can’t figure out how to write yet. i’ll include a transcript so you can read or listen, depending on your mood and your commute.

quarterly Q&As. ask me anything in the chat, and i’ll put together a post with thoughtful (maybe even funny!) answers.

a quarterly book club. we pick a book, we read it together, we talk about it — most likely here in the chat, with occasional zooms if folks warrant that (intrepid readers may recall i did this once during covid!). more details on the first pick coming soon.

an annual roundup. a curated best-of wrap up: the best books, shows, recipes, and moments from every issue i sent that year. consider it a greatest hits, personally selected by me.

if you’re already a paid subscriber: you’re already in. nothing changes on your end — things are just better now. you have a fun name!

if you’ve been on the fence: hi! this is your moment. a BFF subscription is $5/month or $55/year. you can subscribe (or upgrade) below, and the archive posts will open to you the second you do.

become a bff

either way — thank you. for reading, for being here, for caring about this little corner of the internet. it means more than you could ever know.

friends, exciting news:

after nearly 5 years (holy moly) on substack, i’m thrilled to say i am finally activating my subscriber chat. it’s the first step towards some fun stuff i’ve been working on in the background (god bless a few weeks off from corporate america—what a absolute gift), and i hope you’ll join me in there.

the big feelings chat is a con…

Read more

after a beautiful week of mostly sunny, truly stunning spring weather, it is raining outside as i type this. my desk lamp is on, i’ve got a candle flickering beside me, and the new noah kahan album (i love) coming through my speakers. the trees outside my living room windows have blossomed, then bloomed, and settled into their summer resting state—a bright, brilliant, verdant green. their leaves are dotted with raindrops, and if i pause noah for a moment, i can hear our courtyard fountain moving through its cycle, the city version of a bubbling brook. it is peaceful and quiet, just as i like my saturday mornings to be. after a rather busy week of plans, i’ve scheduled very little for this weekend. this afternoon, i’ve got a solo ticket to see the fear of 13 on broadway (you may recall broadway show was on my time off to do list; i’m also seeing ragtime on tuesday evening!). tomorrow, i’ve got brunch in brooklyn to celebrate my friend amanda, who is running the half-marathon!

and that, friends, is it. the sum total of my weekend plans. last night, i was in bed by 9:15 and asleep by 10 (much to the chagrin of the dating app men who texted at 11 with the modern day version of “u up?”). i’ve got two more weeks before i start my new job, and i’m feeling exactly as i hoped i would feel: refreshed, relaxed, and creatively reinvigorated. a little bit exhausted, but in all the right ways. i feel physically tired because i’ve started running again (miracle of miracles!). late last week, after a series of tests (step downs, treadmill running, a series of lunges and jumps), my PT cleared me to “return to run” and set me up with a plan that began with a single minute of light jogging at a time, followed by 4 whole minutes of walking afterwards. not exactly the whole “look ma, i can run a 5k!” vibe i had going a few years ago, but: it’s something! yesterday marked a full week of runs (4 total; i run M/W/F), and i’m thrilled to say that come monday, i’ll progress to 2 mins on/3 mins off.

i’m back on my ‘run to latte’ bullshit, and while i could easily lament just how far i have to go (and the fact that i’m starting from scratch for the third time in as many years), i’m choosing to lean into the magic of rebuilding. of what can be found in the struggle of starting fresh. of what i can learn from listening to the cues my body gives me—what is a good pain, and a bad one; what is feeling out of breath and what leaves me truly breathless. i cannot overstate just how good it feels to move my body in this way again (even if just for a minute or so at a time), to feel my heart rate quicken, and my feet pound the pavement; to see the east river rush and the buildings of brooklyn blur by. to blast my favorite playlist, full of the late 2010s edm hits i once sprinted to in soulcycle (oh, what a time!).

every little bit counts. every tiny moment is a step towards something—even when we can’t see it yet.

earlier this week, i talked about this exact thing with my therapist.

i was trying to explain why i felt simultaneously sad for and frustrated at my mother, who had tried exactly one yoga class before giving up because she “couldn’t do any of it.” i want, so badly, for her to feel better in her body (not looks-wise, feelings-wise); to be reminded of what it can do, even as it ages and changes and seems to give up on her. as a woman who used to meditate (and once told me she literally levitated off her pillow whilst doing so), i’ve long felt yoga—even something as simple as chair yoga!—might be a nice outlet for her. a way to stretch her aching muscles, a way to restore mobility, a way to quiet the noise in her brain. but when she’d finally gone, i explained to my therapist, she’d given in too quickly.

i couldn’t do it! she said to me on the phone. so that’s that!

{i feel i must caveat here: it is her body, and her life, and it’s not my place to judge or force her into things that don’t feel right for her. logically, i know this. but sometimes our hearts need a minute to catch up to our brains, you know?}

she just…gave up! i said to my therapist, the leather couch squelching beneath me as i leaned forward, threw my hands in the air. just like that! i just…i just wish she knew that not being able to do things is just the starting point. that it doesn’t mean you won’t be able to do them forever.

you see, i explained to her, i was that person once.

a child who felt ungainly and uncoordinated and all together too awkward and hefty to play sports. a girl who, yes, joined her high school crew team—but only to get out of gym class, which was a horror to beat all horrors. a girl who never set foot in a gym in college, nor for the first few years after. a person who believed, deep down in her soul, that exercise and athleticism wasn’t for her.

i’m not sure what possessed me, then, to buy a week of unlimited classes at the bar method 15 years ago. maybe it was the fact that it was under $100 on gilt groupe (remember gilt groupe?!). maybe it was the fact that the studio was around the corner for my office. maybe it was the fact that i coveted the long, lean, sculpted bodies of the women i saw strutting down spring street after class (probably, it was this).

i remember my first class like it was yesterday. small, tiny, isometric movements, the website said. i fixated on small and tiny—things i wanted to be, things i thought i could do. about 10 minutes into class, moving up an inch, down an inch, thighs quivering, a strange sensation came over me. oh my god, i thought, sweat trickling down the center of my spine. i’m going to pass out. without making eye contact with anyone, i exited the studio, closing the door behind me, and padded down the hallway towards the locker room. tears welled up in my eyes. who did i think i was, coming to a class like this? had i forgotten the body i had been given? the body i had created, with my love of sugar and my hatred of exercise?

i slid down the wall and pulled my knees into my chest, willing myself not to cry. stupid, stupid sarah.

a moment later, the instructor (and owner of the studio) kneeled down in front of me. eyes kind, she told me to put my head between my legs. take a few deep breaths, she said. it’ll help. and then she told me to rejoin class once i felt a bit better. thigh is the hardest part, she said. but i promise you it gets easier. and then she laughed. well, maybe not easier, but…you get stronger.

a few minutes later, my wits restored, i slipped back into my spot at the bar. the class had progressed to glute work; no one batted an eye at my absence. after class, the instructor urged me to come back again tomorrow. to start fresh.

to this day, i’m not sure what compelled me to return.

my pride was wounded and my muscles were sore.

but i went back anyway. and then i went back the day after that, and the day after that. i completed my week, and bought a monthly package.

within a month, i could it make it through thigh without feeling like i was going to collapse.

within two months, i made a friend in the locker room—a woman who lived just a few blocks away from me. we walked home together any time we found ourselves in the 5:30pm class.

within a year, i was a regular at the studio.

a few years later, a friend i’d made there (now, i’d made many!) told me i had to try soulcycle with her. it’s so hard and so incredible. you’ll love it! she said. then she told me once she’d spun so hard she’d nearly shit her pants (not the best selling point).

terrified, i initially said no. the old me was still in there, screaming, you can’t! you’re not ready! you’re not a person who does these things!

lisa kept asking, and eventually, i went. to one class, and then another, until i was a regular there, too.

i made more friends, found favorite instructors, even found the courage to ride front row a handful of times.

5 years in, i barely recognized the girl who’d nearly passed out in her first bar method class. i was a bonafide 5 days a week fitness person. ME!! A FITNESS PERSON!

all because i didn’t give up when it was hard that every first time.

every time i have to restart my running journey, i am reminded of this.

of the times in which i have been scared, and convinced i couldn’t do it, and have done it anyway. mid-pandemic, feeling out of shape and unable to visit my favorite fitness studios, i decided i was going to learn to run. ME?! A RUNNER?! i know. but i did it. i downloaded couch to 5k, and i started running, 3 times a week. at first, i couldn’t even run a minute at a time. 6 months later, in the bitter february cold, i ran my first 5k in under 35 minutes. not an impressive time for big time/fast runners, but an incredible time for me, the girl who couldn’t run a minute less than a year before.

since then, i’ve stopped and started, gotten injured and stopped and started again. i’ve taken up strength training to try and prevent injuries, and gotten injured anyway. i’ve been in PT once, twice, three times. each time, i have to put my habits on hold and dedicate myself to healing. each time, i have to begin again. to build back better, i have to start fresh. each time it is hard, and each time, i remind myself: i once was a girl who believed she had no business setting foot in a gym or a boutique fitness studio. now, i am a person who does both those things with aplomb.

our bodies do not fail us. we fail our bodies when we do not believe in them, when we do not listen to them.

but when we do? when we get really quiet, and we listen to what they’re telling us—really listen, and adapt accordingly—that is where the magic lives.

and so, here i am, yet again, starting at the bottom, working my way up. one minute, then two, then three, then five, and then before i know it, a full twenty, or thirty. a little bit, and then all at once. what a beautiful, magic lesson.

friends: if you genuinely enjoy this newsletter, will you a) tap the little heart at the bottom and b) consider sharing it on your IG stories or forwarding along to a friend?

doing so helps ensure big feelings gets seen by more people, as does subscribing (whether paid or free) below.

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and now for this week’s recs.

it will probably not surprise you to hear that willy wonka & the chocolate factory is one of my favorite movies. specifically, the 1971 gene wilder version (don’t even try to talk to me about timothee’s version of the iconic character), which i think is a visually stunning, epic take on the roald dahl story. as a child, i loved matilda and the bfg, and—though i found it rather scary—the witches, too. it’s no surprise, then, that i adored this limited podcast series about dahl’s life. did you know he was a fighter pilot?! or that he worked undercover in the US during WWII, with the sole job of trying to impress american women in DC so that he could get close(r) to the president? or that he invented a medical device to save his son when he didn’t like the options presented to him?!

dahl was, as so many artists are, both tortured and brilliant—a man of great intellect, and great sorrow. his family life was plagued with disaster (some self-imposed), his professional life a series of pivots. he didn’t set out to write children’s books (in fact, he initially thought such work to be beneath him), and one might argue he didn’t set out to do much of anything at all, beyond take the leap into whatever was presented to him in the moment. but he was a fascinating character, even more fascinating than i might have imagined. i loved hearing about his early life, and all the ups and downs that made him into the writer we know him to be. if you’ve ever enjoyed one of his stories, i think you’ll enjoy this podcast series, too.

listen here

ps: it’s well-known (i think) that despite his fighting the nazis in WWII, dahl was a raging anti-semite. the podcast tackles this issue with utmost grace, dedicating a series of episodes at the end towards conversations with the likes of roxane gay re: how we juggle our love of the art with the values we hold dear as humans. no matter where you land on the spectrum (ie, how you decide what art you consume and what art you don’t), it’s a thoughtful listen.

pps: other podcast episodes i enjoyed this week included charlize theron on the interview, this episode of the daily on how iranians see the war, the wirecutter team on using dish soap for EVERYTHING (!), and emma grede on her unpopular work philosophies.

i went to see lena speak at BAM the week this book came out, received a hardcover copy of the book along with my ticket, and have been savoring its pages ever since. a memoir a decade in the making, famesick is the story of two women: the lena we saw onscreen and in the media (or rather: the lena the media portrayed her to be), and the lena who existed offscreen—a young woman thrust into a spotlight she’d always wanted but appeared entirely unprepared to handle, a young woman whose body began to rebel against her, a little bit and then all at once. if you’ve followed dunham post-girls, if you subscribed to her newsletter, lenny letter, or read her editorial pieces, you know: lena is sick, and has been for a long time. but this book sheds light and just how sick she is (and has been) over the last decade. as someone who suffered approximately 1% of the agony dunham has in dealing with my uterine fibroid + resulting symptoms the last few years, i cannot imagine what it must have been like—what it must be like to be her.

say what you will about dunham (she has many a hater, as the internet will reveal), but one thing is undeniable: the woman is an incredible writer. her words positively leap off the page. she writes about womanhood in a way so honest and bracing that it hurts. fame, illness, the breakdown of her relationship with jack antonoff and then with best friend and business parter jenni konner—she recounts all of it without a shiny veneer, often painting herself as the villain, or at the very least, as a person that is annoying and impossible to be around. i’ve got just a chapter or so left in the book, and i feel like i could keep reading it forever. i know she’s not for everyone (who is), but if she is for you (or if you appreciate great writing), pick this one up. it’s a fascinating take on chronic illness, creative ambition, addiction, friendship, and more. a millennial must-read! ALL ADVENTUROUS WOMEN DO (read it) (sorry, had to!).

get it on amazon | get it on bookshop

related reading:

i got everything i dreamed of -when i had no ability to handle it | the guardian

i was wrong about lena dunham | slate

ps: if you’re a big reader, follow me on goodreads! i try and rank/save every book i read (i read 81 in 2025!)

there’s some GOOD TV out right now, am i right?! reporting back to say i am LOVING margo’s got money troubles. elle fanning is pitch perfect as margo, michelle pfeiffer radiant as her mother, and nick offerman as jinx is just…chef’s kiss! an adaptation i might like even more than the novel itself?! i know, sacrilege to say aloud, but…here we are. i’m also still watching and enjoying your friends and neighbors, and in particular, am loving amanda peet’s storyline, which finds her in perimenopause, raging and sweating her way through life, and in particular, at her daughter. jonathan tropper, an author i’ve long loved, is the showrunner, and his fabulously human writing shines through at every turn. i particularly loved this week’s episode, in which the cast attended a passover seder. mel (peet’s character) gets wasted, spills red wine all over her white dress, and makes a positively HILARIOUS joke about “dayenu” when tori (her daughter) finds her drunkenly toppling into a bush in the backyard. jews everywhere cackled at this moment, i tell you!!

i know, i know: you came here for a new recommendation, and so a new recommendation you shall have! if you, like me, enjoy a foreign spy thriller, i give you unfamiliar, a 6-part german miniseries about two former spies who’ve gone underground following an operation gone wrong. when their cover is blown, their ‘normal’ life (complete with a 16-year-old daughter who’s just celebrated her birthday) falls apart. unfamiliar is one part action thriller (think: the night agent), one part domestic drama (there’s a love triangle, because of course there is!!), and a wild ride. and with a cliffhanger ending, i’m hopeful there will be a season two.

watch it here

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this recipe might just be the perfect sunday night meal. but it’s also excellent as a weeknight dinner, given the fact that it’s all made in a single pan, and comes together in under 30 minutes. it’s from one of my favorite OG food bloggers, how sweet eats, and features a bevy of delicious spring ingredients, including lemons, artichokes, and asparagus. i added green beans to mine because i wanted a bit more veg, and think artichoke (though you’d want to add it at the end so it doesn’t get too mushy) would be delish too! make sure you buy israeli couscous (the bigger “pearl” kind vs the tiny kind!). and don’t forget to toast it in the pan before you add the stock! this helps bring out the flavor—just a few extra minutes for a whole lot of reward. start to finish, this whole shebang takes about 25 mins. it’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s shockingly flavorful. bright, briny, a little bit tart. what’s not to love? i ended up giving a portion of this meal to my neighbor after realizing as much as i enjoy leftovers, i couldn’t eat all of this on my own. he gave it rave reviews!

get the recipe

i’ve had my eye on this eyelet sweatshirt* for a while now, and keep waiting for it to go on sale. other things are on sale on the GAP site at the moment, but this one remains elusive—c’monnnn, GAP! what’s in my cart instead? this linen tee, which is perfectly drape-y (i know, because i own it in another color), light as a feather, and on sale for under $20. this striped linen button down, which i just know will feature prominently at the beach this summer (on sale for $40). and this eyelet bandana in butter yellow, which i feel is the PERFECT accent piece for paris (and all spring/summer long). i don’t know what it is about the changing seasons that gives me a major case of the shoppies, but…alexa, play usher’s "u got it bad”, because i do. lord give me the strength not to shop too much on my trip next week!

a positively perfect sweatshirt

*pun not intended!

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

noah kahan on npr’s tiny desk!! such talent, such joy! tell me: what’s your favorite song off the new album?

private equity got into the bagel biz. what happens now? i had my first apollo bagel last week and i gotta say: it lived up to the hype.

anne hathaway and stanley tucci ask rapid-fire questions. who’s excited for the devil wears prada 2?!

an excellent guide to european summer, courtesy of .

poet ada limon’s favorite things.

really loved this essay in AD from designer sarah sherman samuels: i grew up in furniture city. here’s why that still matters.

a new yorker discovers her city in a wheelchair. food writer yewande komolafe is one of my favorite cooks/recipe developers on nyt cooking—i had no idea this was her lived experience. such a powerful piece. the comments are worth a read, too.

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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now, allow me to introduce myself:

i’m sarah. i live with my two cats, luna and prudence (named for their predecessor, penny lane, as one does in the jewish faith!), on the lower…

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as i mentioned in last week’s newsletter, i’m free as a bird for the next couple of weeks, as i take some time off to decompress between my old job and my new one (!). as of this afternoon, i’ve officially completed all of my new hire paperwork. i’ve written a short introductory bio to be sent out to the team, and selected a headshot to go with it. i’ve gotten through a slew of doctor’s appointments and picked up prescriptions in hopes of making the most of my current deductible and OOP spend before both reset in june. i’ve been reading, and tanning (it’s been 80+ degrees in new york all week!), and slowly working my way through a list of the types of spring cleaning chores one writes down but never actually does (more on that below). i’ve had dentist appointments (oh so many dentist appointments), and gyn appointments; ultrasounds and mammograms and x-rays. i’ve run errands and washed my comforter (when was the last time you washed your comforter?!).

in short: i am making the most of my time off in the most capricorn, type a of ways: i am working my way through my to do list.

the last time i did this was back in november, when i was off work for two weeks post-surgery and found that while i myself couldn’t do much, on account of not being able to lift more than 10 pounds, i could hire people to do all the things in my apartment i’d been putting off for the last decade. during that fallow period, i finally installed new lights in my kitchen, something i’d been wanting to do ever since my contractor had installed my old ones off-centered in 2016 (!). i gave up on the tension rods in my bathroom that had refused to hold up shower curtains for more than 2 minutes at a time, and ordered fancy, drill-in, permanent ones from kohler, then paid a handyman to install them. i went through my sweaters and marked a huge pile for donation.

it! felt! wonderful!

during this time period, everyone cautioned me to rest. and in some ways, i was and did. i was resting mentally by not being on my laptop, not looking at emails or responding to teams messages. i was resting physically by not lifting any weights, or going to yoga, or even carrying heavy groceries. but was i sitting around on the couch doing nothing?

of course not, because—generally speaking, 90% of the time—doing nothing does not suit me. this is something i’ve realized about myself over the years.

my version of rest looks different from others.

for many people, rest looks like, well, actual rest. couch rotting, bed rotting, bingeing hours and hours of tv and film. i can only stomach this type of relaxation when i am really and truly ill.

but the rest of the time? the rest of the time, this type of rotting makes me feel uneasy. not because i feel i should be doing, but because i genuinely like doing. i enjoy being productive, yes, but more than that, i like an activity. i like my brain to feel fizzy and engaged. i find that doing things that are my choosing (vs. doing things for, say, work) feels like relaxation to me. grocery shopping without a time crunch? relaxing. prepping and chopping vegetables for a nice dinner just for one? meditative. cleaning out my closet whilst a podcast plays in the background? bliss.

i know that many people would use this time to genuinely chill. to literally and figuratively do less. but i find that i feel most relaxed when i’m not necessarily doing less, but doing different. that is to say: doing WHATEVER THE HELL I FEEL LIKE DOING THAT DAY! this week, that has meant bringing a beach towel to the patch of grass beside the manhattan bridge and reading a book for 2 hours (american fantasy by emma straub, if you must know!) in my bathing suit and pretending i was on the beach. it has meant biking up to the east village and finally trying apollo bagels (SO GOOD, BELIEVE THE HYPE!) before i hopped back on my citibike and headed to a (totally fine, was just my paranoia talking) second mammogram + ultrasound appointment. it has meant popping into little stationary shops and buying stickers just because, it has meant planning the hell out of my upcoming (pre-planned, pre-job quitting and signing) trip to paris. it has meant doing tiny little organizational things that bring me immense amounts of joy, like switching out the filter on my canopy humidifier and setting a calendar alert for every 6 weeks so that i don’t have to ask myself, when was the last time i did this?

these things are small, and silly, and rather insignificant. or at least, they could be perceived as such. but to me? to me, they are everything. to have this short window of time in which the only expectations of me are those i have set for myself, in which the only doing i have to do is what i wish to do that day; to know that this period is temporary and that there will be a paycheck and a stable job waiting for me on the other side: it is a type of freedom i’ve never had before. previously, i’ve leapt without knowing the safety net would appear (and struggled to find it). never in my life have i had a full month off with the knowledge that security is coming soon.

i am busy, but i am free. and so i am soaking up every possible second, whilst also prioritizing sleep, and solo time, and time with my cats at home because truthfully, that is when i am happiest (at home, on the couch or in the kitchen or at my laptop with my cats close by). i feel myself blooming into a newer, freer, better regulated individual, and i hope to god i can hold onto this feeling even when the stress of newness and professional demands begin again. i have been battling my way towards this type of nervous system reset for over a year, and now that it’s here, it feels so hard won that i am desperate not to fuck it up.

and so here i am, doing all the things, as doers are wont to do. today, i’ve already gone for a short jog, done a core workout, gone to the dentist to get a crown put on, gone to trader joe’s for fresh flowers, and bought the supplies to make my first batch of homemade ice cream of the season. i am not resting, but i feel rested.

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and now for this week’s recs.

it’s been a minute since maintenance phase has gifted us a new episode, and man, did this one deliver. michael and aubrey brought on peter shamshiri, mike’s co-host on his other podcast, if books could kill to talk about tim ferriss’ latest, the 4-hour body, and WHAT A TREAT IT WAS. i found myself laughing out loud as i walked from my apartment to the coffee shop, as i often do when listened to MP. tim ferriss, for the uninitiated, is the author of the 4-hour work week, which is essentially a bible for bros who want to work less (by outsourcing their work to others). the 4-hour body ostensibly follows a similar format (how to biohack your exercise routine), except that it’s full of ABSURD content like weighing your poop (!!) and a chapter on sex (why that’s in this book, we may never know) that tells men to locate the clitoris at “1 o’clock”. all that is to say: this book is (seemingly) insane, which makes for a positively HILARIOUS episode with aubrey, michael, and peter. if you like to learn and laugh at the same time, this one’s for you.

listen here

ps: other podcast episodes i enjoyed this week included kerry washington on good hang, caro claire burke on be there in 5 (spoilers for yesteryear here!), the wirecutter team on the (only!) 3 knives you need in your kitchen, and this fascinating convo about the morality of taxes on .

i know literally everyone on the internet was reading (and raving about) this book last year. i waited to read it because i attempted to read writers & lovers years ago and found it a wee bit pretentious and all together not my cup of tea. i rarely DNF (did not finish) a book, but i DNF’d that one. which meant that when everyone started talking about how incredible heart the lover was, i thought to myself: good for them, not for me. then it got selected as our may read for book club, and our text chain started popping off about—you guessed it—how incredible heart the lover was. i trust my book club ladies implicitly; though our tastes vary, we rarely differ on universally loving/hating a book. if a few of them were liking it, i would probably like it, too.

after finishing american fantasy by emma straub (liked, but did not love), i downloaded heart the lover on my kindle. and then proceeded to devour it, start to finish, in approximately 48 hours. i read the last 20 or so pages whilst sitting in a waiting room in a green and white striped gown awaiting a diagnostic mammogram for a pain i’ve been having in my left boob for a few weeks now (nothing like your mother’s breast cancer diagnosis to make you paranoid about every new bump, itch, bruise, and pain). i’ll tell you: it is a TRIP to read a book like that one (IYKYK) whilst sitting in a waiting room of a cancer center. thankfully, two things are true: 1) my mammo and ultrasound are clear, my pain is just hormonal and nothing to worry about. 2) i was alone in the waiting room when i got the very end and cried quietly to myself, because life is at once so sad and so beautiful, and this book did an excellent job of illustrating that.

i realize i haven’t told you anything about the plot, but honestly? just…go in blind. it is a wee bit pretentious at parts, but it will make you feel things about being human, and want to live your life fully out loud. i highly, highly recommend it (even if you, too, did not like writers & lovers).

get it on amazon | get it on bookshop

ps: if you’re a big reader, follow me on goodreads! i try and rank/save every book i read (i read 81 in 2025!)

eeeeep! margo’s got money troubles was one of my favorite books last year. smart, inventive, unique. full of heart and soul, and downright hilarious. and you know what? it looks like the adaptation, which premiered on apple tv earlier this week, will be JUST THAT. elle fanning is perfectly cast as margo, an aspiring writer and college student who finds herself pregnant with her professor’s baby. after he refuses to acknowledge her or the child, margo realizes: she needs a way to make money—fast. when her estranged father, jinx, shows up on her doorstep and asks to move in with her, she agrees in exchange for help with childcare. and then, a plan forms: while jinx watches, the baby, margo—the daughter of an ex-hooter’s waitress and an ex-pro wrestler—will start an onlyfans. she tells herself it’s just an experiment. a way to make some extra cash to pay for diapers, and food, and rent. but then, with jinx’s advice from his wrestling days, she begins to experiment with character. soon, she’s a runaway success.

apple’s star-studded cast includes michelle pfeiffer as her mom, nick offerman as jinx, as well as greg kinnear and nicole kidman—but it’s fanning who carries the show. i can’t wait to dive in this weekend!

watch it here

psst! if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on IG stories or substack notes—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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alert! alert! if you have ever wanted to make bluberry muffins that taste EXACTLY LIKE THE ONES YOU WOULD GET AT YOUR FAVORITE BAKERY, look no further. i cannot believe how good these muffins are—so good that i gifted them to two sets of neighbors, and my therapist (who is often the recipient of my baking adventures and always accepts them with the utmost kindness). i used frozen blueberries and beat them a bit too aggressively with my kitchenaid, which meant that my dough turned blue (alexa, play “you’re turning violet, violet!” from willy wonka), but still: they were incredibly delicious, and kept well in an airtight container on my counter for days. they’re sweet but not overly so, have a crispy streusel-y top that makes them feel extra fancy, and truly just feel like a hug. i don’t own a toaster, but i imagine if you cut these in half and toasted them, then added butter, they would be extra special chef’s kiss* delish.

get the recipe

ps: want your muffins to look like they belong in a bakery? these tulip muffin liners help!

this is almost cheating, because it’s not a thing i bought recently, but: i’ve owned this bag for the last few summers, and think it’s an excellent summer piece. when it randomly popped up on my pinterest feed the other day, i clicked, wanting to link it for you all, but figured it would be long out of stock (i’ve had mine for years!). imagine my delight when i saw that it was not only under $60, but absolutely still in stock! it’s a nice, muslin-y fabric that is machine washable (i airdry; it’ll shrink a teensy bit even in cold water but will stretch back out!), fits a ton for the beach, but packs up small making it perfect for travel. i bring it on every spring/summer/beach-y trip i take, as i find it adds a perfect amount of color to an otherwise simple outfit.

rainbow beach bag

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

i really loved this colorful, layered house tour.

7 ways to turn a can of tuna into a meal.

color-coding your google calendar. not me googling to see if i can do this on apple/iphone/outlook instead!

oreo brownies, yes please!

tis the season for outdoor dining, and you can bet your bottom dollar i’m making note of all these outdoor dining spots from vogue (big ups to kiki’s, which is in my ‘hood and which is so popular, they expanded to a second restaurant across the street).

a chicer than chic train trip that doesn’t require sleeping in a train-y bed?! sign me up.

cucumber salad with soy, ginger, and garlic - sounds riiiight up my alley!

olivia dean does elle’s AMA.

THESE! COLORS!

an incredibly beautiful essay about grief (though: trigger warning for parental and sibling loss).

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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everywhere i look, mother nature is starting fresh. and soon, so will i. yesterday, a little after 3pm, i strolled a few blocks north to my neighborhood ups store, showed them an email on my phone, and watched as they packaged up my laptop, my charger, and my set of plastic badges.

that’s right, friends: two weeks ago, i gave notice. after spending nearly a decade at my last professional home, i lasted just a little over a year at this one. this was not the plan. but what’s that they say? you plan, and god laughs. i don’t know that i believe in god, but i do believe in some sort of universe-y power, and while there were many times over the last 15ish months i felt that the universe not only did not have my back, but was actively stabbing me in it on the regs, i woke up this morning feeling—for the first time in a long time—like i could breathe again. like the universe had finally figured it out.

when i quit my job in 2024, i cried the entire day. on every single call i made, i teared up, because—despite knowing it was right, despite knowing i needed to go—i still didn’t feel ready. i had never quit anything before, and i felt the weight of the leaving like a stone on my chest.

this time, the leaving feels different. less heavy, less hard. not because i care less about my team—if anything, i feel guiltier leaving this team behind than i did my last one—but because i feel, for the first time in my professional life, like i know where i stand, wholly and fully. i feel rooted in my values in a way i didn’t think possible. i know what feels worth my energy, and what doesn’t. i may not have any strong work for my book, but i have something more important:

clarity. clarity so real and true that it feels unshakeable.

as soon as it became clear that i was a square peg in a round hole, i asked myself:

what could i do for this team? who could i be if i could not convince this organization that i was a normal, likable, collaborative human? i couldn’t shift how they did things. i couldn’t touch certain dynamics. i didn’t have the power to change things—but i did have the power to make my people feel seen. and so for the last 15 months, i have been laser-focused on that. not on the work (though i have done my damndest to make the work strong when and where i can), but on the people. and you know what? i can leave this job knowing that—for those who were open to receiving it—i made an impact there.

when i accepted this title (and when i accepted the new role i’ll start in may), i experienced this sort of dual reality: on the one hand, i know that i have been a working adult for nearly 20 years, that i know what i’m doing and that i am rather good at it. on the other hand, i still feel like the girl who graduated college into a recession, who struggled to get her foot in the door and essentially had to beg, borrow, and steal (and by that i mean write SEO-optimized articles about wristwatches for overstock.com for $50 a pop) to get her first real agency job.

i am her, and she is me, but also? i am a boss. a boss who, for the last year, has managed nearly $40 million worth of business and a rather large team. it is weird to think that i am the leader i once looked up to, but also: she is me, and i am her.

the other night, i tried to explain this duality to my therapist. i’d been writing my goodbye email in my head for weeks; i wanted it to hit all the right notes without hitting them too hard, i wanted it to be perfect and amazing and heartfelt and true. but also, i was struck with this insane sense of imposter syndrome. WHO DID I THINK I WAS CRAFTING AN OVERWROUGHT GOODBYE EMAIL?! DID I REALLY THINK ANYONE CARED THAT I WAS LEAVING? i’d only been there a year. i’d barely managed to make a tygythshift, let alone a sea change.

per usual, my therapist had a truth bomb of a question to ask me in response.

what did you think of your boss when you first started in the industry?

i thought back not to my very first boss, but to the boss who i now consider a mentor (i hope she would allow me to use that word!), the boss i looked up to the moment i realized maybe i wanted to be a leader someday too.

i remember meeting her during my interview process and thinking she was THE MOST CAPABLE, INTELLIGENT, BAD ASS OLDER PERSON I HAD EVER MET.

note: she was not at all old. in fact, if my math checks out, she was younger than i am now (!!).

she was also, if i’m remembering correctly, the title i am in this exact moment.

that is to say: i am her, and she is me.

i am the leader i once looked up to. i am the leader i once hoped to be.

over the last decade or so, as i’ve been promoted and stepped into leadership roles, i have looked at the folks around me. i have taken the pieces of their leadership style i respect, and tossed out the parts i didn’t. i have honed and sculpted my style to be the boss i always wanted—someone who genuinely cares, someone who is truly in your corner, someone who will go to bat for you, even when it’s hard.

and you know what? if nothing else, i can look back at this year, and know that is the leader i am today. i am the boss who genuinely cares. the boss who is truly in your corner. the boss who will go to bat for you, even when it’s hard (and readers, it was hard about 80% of the time). this year has forged my leadership style in the fucking fire, but i made it out alive.

i am her! she is me! and while i may have spent the last 15 months feeling anything but powerful, having that level of clarity—knowing who i am in the workplace, through and through—is a type of power. it is powerful to know what kind of boss i want to be. what type of boss i am. powerful to know that even if i didn’t always win (i mostly didn’t win), my team knew i was fighting for them. fighting for their recognition, and their boundaries, and their work.

my leadership style didn’t resonate with everyone. in fact, i’d venture to guess a lot of people could not stand me, and are rather thrilled that i am gone (to that i say: going to be a lot less cat gifs in your microsoft teams!!). but the ones with whom it did? those people felt exactly the way i hoped they would: seen, and held, and empowered to be their very best creative selves. so much so that one of my writers said my partner and i have “set the bar for what a great boss looks like so impossibly high that future managers don’t stand a chance.”

and that, my friends, is a powerful thing.

so! that is my big life update.

i’ll be free as a bird for the next couple of weeks, taking time to reset and refresh and (eep!) spend a week doing a house swap in paris. i have a long list of life admin things i want to, and a longer list of fun creative things i want to do even more. i feel like april is going to be one long exhale, and i. can’t. wait.

she is me. i am her. and i am ready.

friends: if you genuinely enjoy this newsletter, will you a) tap the little heart at the bottom and b) consider sharing it on your IG stories or forwarding along to a friend?

doing so helps ensure big feelings gets seen by more people, as does subscribing (whether paid or free) below.

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and now for this week’s recs.

i listened to so many great podcasts this week that i couldn’t narrow it down to one. so instead, i’ll give you four!

lena dunham on the interview. i adore lena dunham. i adore her (sometimes brutal, extremely vulnerable, oftentimes hilarious) honesty. i adore her writing. i adore the way she is just whole and human and messy and real. this episode of the interview, entitled “lena dunham is still trying to figure out why people hated her so much” is an illuminating listen. i’m seeing her in brooklyn on tuesday night as part of her promo tour for her new book, famesick, and can’t wait!

listen to lena

brandi carlile on good hang. good hang isn’t always my cup of tea—as i’ve said before, i am not a comedy gal!—but i always listen when there’s a guest i like. so of course i had to listen to this brandi ep, which is a full hour of JOY. start for the opening moments with maren morris, who reflects on meeting brandi when she joined the highwomen, stay for brandi and amy attempting an indigo girls duet.

brandi x amy

terry gross on talk easy. OH MY GOD THIS EPISODE. this episode is just…fantastic. terry gross and sam fragoso together is a special type of magic. you will laugh. you will cry. you will marvel at that much intelligence and empathy in one proverbial room. i don’t care if you’ve never listened to NPR or if you listen to it every day of your life. this episode is special. so special and full of wisdom that i may just have to listen again.

terry on talk easy

BOP’s publishing trends. will i myself—an aspiring novelist—ever get a literary agent or sell a book? honestly, chances are low. stakes are HIGHLY competitive, and book publishing seems, to an outsider like me at least, to be a game less focused on talent and more focused on who you know (or how many followers you have online). does that stop me from listening to any and all literary podcasts in hopes that i’ll soak up the magical grain of knowledge that takes my manuscript from rejected to sold? no, it does not. because maybe someday i will be the lucky one. maybe (likely) not, but..a girl can dream (and listen)!

2026 publishing trends

this book came out just a few days ago, but it’s been just about everywhere for months. is it the book of spring, the book of the summer, or the book of the year? hard to tell, but suffice it to say: i think everyone will be both reading it and talking about it, so now’s the time! as a big fan of , the podcast co-hosts with , i’ve been eagerly awaiting the arrival of yesteryear, which was rumored to be the subject of a big ol’ bidding war and whose film rights were snatched up by the one and only anne hathaway (she intends to produce and star in the film). though the book is 400 pages, i flew through it in just a few days, turning off my shows (side note: whenever i say this, i think of my grandma and how she used to say she was watching “her programs”) by 9pm to get in bed and read. i couldn’t put it down, but also? i’m not sure i can say i enjoyed it, so bracing is its satire and societal critique.

yesteryear follows natalie heller mills, a tradwife influencer who awakes one morning to find herself living not in today’s modern america, but in a much harsher one: that of 1855. her house is her house, but also? it’s not her house. her family looks like her family, but they are not her family. her kitchen is warmed by a sputtering fire, her sourdough is hard as a rock, her clothes are dank and dirty. natalie, who once hid an army of producers and nannies behind the scenes, selling a perfect lifestyle to her 8 million followers, now spends her days hauling firewood and handwashing her clothes until her fingers bleed. a lifelong christian, natalie tells herself this is either an elaborate hoax, a twisted reality show, or a test from god. how will she know? how will we, the readers, know?

for those who are wondering: no, it’s not all a dream. i won’t tell you what it is, but i will tell you: the twist surprised me! this book smacks you in the face, but i think that’s a good thing? if you’ve read it, i’d love to know your thoughts in the comments.

Leave a comment

get it on amazon | get it on bookshop

related reading: yesteryear as reviewed by the ny times (every debut author’s DREAM!)

related listening: the caro episode (in which she details how many novels she wrote before she sold this one!)

ps: if you’re a big reader, follow me on goodreads! i try and rank/save every book i read (i read 81 in 2025!)

your friends and neighbors is back, and it! is! fabulous! fun and funny and smart, with a great cast and great writing. i was thrilled to see james marsden (who i have missed desperately on paradise) pop up in YFAN season two. no one does a charming, handsome, is-he-dumb-or-is-he-intelligent himbo the way he does, i swear to god. whatta man! and of course, we’ve got jon hamm, who continues to delight in his role as andy cooper, disgraced financier who—after being cleared for murder—has returned to wine-ng and dining with all his fancy friends whilst stealing from them in the middle of the night. there are only two eps out so far, so you’ve got time to catch up before the season progresses (or the opp to hoard them so you can do an all day binge, if that’s more your style). either way: this is a perfect spring watch. rich people behaving badly = my favorite genre!

watch it here

next up (and also on apple): margo’s got money troubles debuts on the 15th! we’ll chat about that next week.

psst! if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on IG stories or substack notes—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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spring cooking is upon us, and with it comes allllll the delish green things. i’m talking asparagus (which i chopped up and ate in scrambled eggs for breakfast yesterday), string beans (which i steam and toss with sesame oil and sesame seeds or butter + S &P whenever i need a quick side dish), and my personal favorite: sugar snap peas. for most of my life, my mamas have maintained an immaculate backyard garden, full of a rotating cast of veggies and herbs and flowers. though i’ve never been much for yard work (i always asked for “indoor chores”), i do love picking freshly grown things off the vine. cherry tomatoes? i’ll fill a whole bowl. sugar snaps? i’ll try, but mostly, i’ll just pop them right into my vine. true to their name, sugar snap peas are brightly and brilliantly sweet. picked at top freshness, they’re also crisp and crackly. they’re mother nature’s version of a perfect snack! when i saw a box of them in my neighborhood grocery store (some looking perfect, some looking a lil sad and wilty), i snagged it, then promptly whipped up this delicious salad. with edamame for protein, and mini cukes for added crunch, plus my beloved sugar snap peas, it made for a fabulous, all veggies all the time lunch.

get the recipe

ok fam, first things first: the gingham pants arrived in their larger size and they! are! perfect! i’m going to wear them today and will try and snap a photo for you, but: i love them! i took them to my local tailor because they were a wee bit long and i wanted them cropped, but: PERFECTION!

in other news: i found myself strolling up west broadway on wednesday after an early morning dermatologist appointment, walking a route younger me used to walk on the regular back when i worked just west of soho. with my work calendar relatively clear, i popped into my old favorite cafe, which is under new ownership but still makes me feel all kinds of nostalgic, returned some sunnies at j. crew (i wanted these to work for me, but sadly i looked a wee bit like a butter-colored bug), and then figured i might as well pop into madewell to see if a pair of sandals i’d been eyeing online were in stock. happily, they were indeed, and at just under $100, they were enough of a deal that i designed to purchase them on the spot! i’ve been looking for a handful of more elevated options for the days in which i don’t want to wear my birkenstocks, and these fit the bill. they’re ever so slightly more interesting than the average slide, and while the white suede might seem ballsy for new york life, i think they’ll do very well on vacation!

snag them here

ps: also recently found at madewell: this FABULOUS red linen shift. i love the eyelet detail on the bottom, and am intending to wear it in paris at the end of this month with my favorite jean jacket + the aforementioned new slides (and/or my sambas). this color = my favorite shade of red. tomato girl summer, always and forever!

before you go, here are a few things i enjoyed on the internet this week:

this plant-filled lower east side (my hood!) loft is incredible.

speaking of my hood, i stumbled across this lil video about a piece of LES history that’s getting a second chance as a community center. more of this, please!

zohran went to a hip seder. not all the guests were thrilled.

one of my fun to do list items for this month—do a day of antiquing upstate! this hotel is on my list.

speaking of hotels, i LOVED this list of ’s most inspiring hotel stays. added so many to my list!

british design is just so dang charming. someday, when i have my (currently imaginary) country house, i hope to have this level of color and whimsy.

i loved this piece about creative “microscenes” in new york.

also, burying the ledge, but, ICYMI: i was in the nytimes sunday styles last weekend! just digitally, but supposedly, the article is running in print tomorrow (eek!).

love story star sarah pidgeon’s spring makeup routine. why are makeup application videos so soothing?

18 books to get you out of a reading rut from the ladies of . i’ve read and loved so many of these recs!

❤️ and that, friends, is where i leave you. if you like this post, it would mean the world to me if you’d hit the little heart icon, as well as consider sharing it on stories—so that big feelings can be seen by more people ❤️

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