Dramatic! But god I am so done with these ads.

I tried Hinge for a few months last year. Suffice to say I did not find the love stories that are shoved in my face everywhere I look. I did not even make it past the texting stage. Am I lonely in a romantic sense? You bet. Do I feel convinced to download Hinge again when I see yet another #hingepartner 🤪😍 post on nearly every larger Substack newsletter I am subscribed to? Absolutely not.

I hate to sound like a femcel but really it just pisses me off even more and makes me even more resentful of not only the app (thanks for a horrible dating experience!) but also happy couples in general, which I decidedly don’t want to feel. It’s not a pleasant sentiment, feeling like you’re a repulsive mess in the corner at a party while everyone dances laughing and entwined around their significant other.

This is the sort of thing that these dating apps prey on. Instead of using your traditional social media influencers, Hinge targets the previously untargeted demographic of slightly more esoteric female intellectuals (who couldn’t possibly want to date anyone, they KNOW their worth 💋) by inundating their inbox with thoughtfully crafted pieces that are just about as sincere as Mikayla Nogueira promoting that mascara. Hinge must have a huge marketing budget because I’ve received no less than 15 of these sponsored posts over the last year. And that’s just from some of the people I’m subscribed to—I can’t imagine how many more there are out there.

‘Designed to be deleted’ it claims. No matter how one may pretend with a steely pout or smize in their profile topped up with a hilarious joke or anecdote, it reeks of desperation. This is the graveyard for dating—and social lives too. I saw a good number of people who had ‘just here for friends’ in their bio. Dramatic again? Maybe. But maybe we all need to get off that damn phone.

I’ve heard many a friend complain about their Hinge experience—it’s too cold, too dehumanising, too limited, too awkward, too numbing, too objectifying, too unsafe… the list goes on. I know someone who was violently yelled at by her Hinge date and quite literally deceived about his intentions. I also know one or two people who have found partners on Hinge.

I’m sure it works wonders for some. Regardless, I don’t want an ideal of love to be peddled to me like I am a slovenly broken thing that needs someone to mend all her problems, because though I would love a real partner, I want to choose of my own volition without the culture continuing this tired narrative. The Substacks might pose it as ‘on your own terms’ or some similar bullshit but the base idea of selling love to someone is, at its core, stupid and archaic. These are the same Substackers that will have complained about Hinge previously because, we all know: it’s a horrible thing to gamify dating into an endless scroll and encourage people to pay for advantages. This is of course not limited to Hinge, but I haven’t seen any #tinderpartner posts on here. Hinge is hip. Hinge is for the cool kids.

Some might think I’m bitter. I am! I’m sick of the dating scene and the apps certainly aren’t making my prospects brighter. They endorse people to turn their dating approach to completely online rather than talking to someone in real life. People are too scared of rejection (me included) and too cowed without having confirmation that the other party is interested romantically—in the real world there is no swipe left or right or sending a virtual rose or heart or message or whatever it is.

Some might say that a partner would indeed fix my problems. But even if I did meet my dream significant other, would I really want to continue to be served incessant advertisements that paste a photo of some glazed loving stares and a sweet little faux meet cute all arranged by an algorithm and some sad hunched computer guy punching in zeroes and ones to update the app code? I hope you would know my answer.

Well, it’s a delight that this is one of Australia’s most famous rappers. Great look for us—but it honestly makes sense, what with our lovely history of severe Indigenous persecution, that we would have fucked-up notions of race.

While I personally am not very familiar with the rapping genre nor is Australia particularly rife with established rappers, there is one figure who is controversial enough to be known internationally. Iggy Azalea’s smash hit ‘Fancy’ led to her quick rise to fame, though it was not enough to sustain her celebrity. She is not widely discussed in Australia, likely due to her rapid fall-off and lack of relevance, but also perhaps from a small factor of shame. Azalea is not exactly a source of national pride; she is well known for her distinctive ‘Blaccent’—the imitation of African-American Vernacular English, which is a dialect spoken by African-Americans.

She has similarly appropriated elements of Black culture without respecting its history nor importance, and when she was called out for it, responded aggressively. Her lyrics also have a tendency to be insensitive, such as in her song ‘D.R.U.G.S.’ she raps ‘When the relay starts, I’m a slave master’. Azalea benefits from her white privilege and ignorance, which is reflected in her music and even gains her more attention due to her blatant display of Black aesthetics and ways of communication without experiencing any of the systemic racism or discrimination that her inspirations have. It is art without substance or meaning, and this is what is primarily remembered of Azalea as she has faded out of the public eye. She is a representation of the unthoughtful appreciation of Black culture that is widely prominent among Western, white societies: one that refuses to look deeper than the surface or question their own role in the system.

Why have there been so many white women who think they’re so boring that they have to steal from another culture to attract attention? Interesting how different the scene is now—not only have seemingly 85% of famous women shrunk 3 sizes, but the majority of Blackfishing has fallen off the face of the earth. While I’d like to think it’s because people know better now, the rise of right-wing aesthetics is undeniable in having some influence in the dying of this trend. Why do we as a culture struggle to find a decent, healthy middle ground between disrespectful, selfish imitations of other races (see: Ariana Grande) and white supremacy? I’m genuinely curious to which factors play the greatest part in this pendulum tendency. Internet algorithms favouring extreme takes? Low levels of critical thinking? A general shift in how we approach discussion? High screen time? I don’t think this is just something that results from the creation of the internet or social media, though I think they’ve sped up the time it takes for the cycle to fulfil itself. Maybe, unfortunately, it’s human nature that likes simple, clear dichotomies. But surely we can do better than this.

Some people escape reality by laughing it off with friends. Others crack open a book, or turn on a film–be it fantasy, drama, reality TV, action… Others still will watch a person wash their face, apply their skincare, vacuum their house and make dinner for ten minutes on a screen that fits in the palm of their hand while they themself collapse onto the couch. This is their fantasy. It is my fantasy. It is all too easy to run away to a potential future I know I can’t have (I do not have a paid brand partnership with Porsche, for example) than to face my humdrum daily reality. Even when I am living my dream I still turn to Youtube when the minutes stretch out, so dependent on being entertained by someone speaking through a screen to me that I just must have it. It has become such a large portion of my decently high screen time that I have had to put a daily limit to stop myself from pressing the tantalising red play button. I must be limited by an outside force from my own lack of willpower and discipline.

It’s safe to say that with 2 billion daily users, Youtube has become a routine part of many people’s lives. Some like myself, might return from a drawn out, strenuous shift and find solace in watching a creator’s life in a far off place where it appears like money grows on trees and there is very little (if not nothing) to worry about. They are just like you, they’ll stress, but with better clothes, a high-rise apartment in New York, paid holidays every month or so and enough disposable income to eat at a Michelin star restaurant three times a week. Oh, and they’re 21 years old. I speak for myself when I say these videos are both comforting and a source of envy, and it’s one of the things that Youtube is best at selling–because, at the end of the day, no matter how their CEO Neal Mohan might frame it, Youtube is part of an industry that runs on monetisation and attention-grabbing content. It may be based on ‘human connection’ and ‘authenticity’, but at the end of the day, it is still part of the capitalist machine: a cog that is greased with the words and images of those who are desperate for fame, money, a platform to share creativity or all of the above. With such a complex and storied site housing creators of all shapes and sizes, opinions and beliefs, it is hard to shove Youtube into a neat little box. Is it the modern-day devil that feeds on your addiction, or is it a door to a whole new world? Or perhaps both? Our need to define clear categories for tricky subjects such as these might in fact be a symptom of the kind of thinking Youtube can engender (though it claims to want the opposite).

It is very easy to fall down a rabbit hole on Youtube, and one might argue it is designed in such a way that facilitates (or encourages) these dives into the bowels of the web. The ‘Recommended’ feature pushes new videos that ‘you might like’, and often the algorithm is right–you DO like this stuff; so much that you keep watching until your eyes are burning. The actual content of the video is often just provoking enough to keep you engaged, differing by the type of niche the creator occupies. A family vlog channel will likely have a brightly-coloured thumbnail with a parent mock-gasping at their child doing something naughty, and it will be edited in a loud, overstimulating manner to keep your brain tuned-in if you start to drift off. An aforementioned aspirational creator (not unlike an influencer–perhaps EVEN an influencer) will pepper in aesthetically-pleasing shots and a soft colour palette that feeds your desire for something akin to what they have–hence the name. These are not an objectively bad thing–but they can be, when they are spurred on by the promise of money and views whipping their legs. That is the issue: it is all too easy.

The majority of content on Youtube is not the ‘library of knowledge’ Mohan lauds. While you might learn something from watching Mr Beast reenact his own Squid Games, it is likely not anything substantially beneficial to your daily or professional life, or even useful for learning about the world we live in. Youtube does provide an extremely valuable platform for free lectures on all kinds of topics and tutoring for a particular chemistry problem you’re struggling with, but most users are not consuming this as their primary entertainment: key word, entertainment. Youtube is where people usually like to go to turn their brain off, or relax, or sometimes to rouse righteous anger when they listen to Candice Owens (whether it be on her behalf or in disagreement). This is something we must keep in mind when discussing its merits and pitfalls. Because of this common function, it is too easy to just keep watching. Watching for minutes, hours, a whole night deprived of sleep… When someone else’s story is more interesting than our own, what happens to our ability to be present? To actually live the life that we might be wanting so desperately to be our own when we watch a vlog? It is only in the real world that we can truly have human connection–you cannot connect with a screen, no matter how much you want to. No matter how much the Youtuber might like to see your likes and comments and subscribes.

Perhaps you have heard enough of “Wuthering Heights” but I unfortunately need to add my 2 cents. As someone who went into the movie with no expectations (let me reemphasise: NO EXPECTATIONS) I was somehow still disappointed. I knew I would at least enjoy the visuals, which were aesthetically pleasing, but I even felt that I had seen most of them in the teaser trailer, so even that front was a bit deflating. The rest of the movie was……..

My sister told me that all her friends said it was ‘life changing’ (positive connotations). I’m afraid I have to believe they have bad taste, because even my friends who were excited to watch the movie with me left with quite the opposite attitude. I know I’m being overly negative but the wrath this movie fills me with is quite unlike much else. If Fennell did intend for it to be rage-bait, it certainly worked on me.

Fennell says that it’s impossible to adapt Wuthering Heights (so why did she bother to bring this calamity into the world under that name…) and essentially said that this movie is her 14 year old self’s brain child (we can tell). The soap-operatic dialogue of the romance, not to mention the way Heathcliff so swoonishly handles Catherine definitely speaks to a less mature take on the novel, which deals with the relationship of the two characters in a complex, nuanced and critical manner.

When adapting media, there is only so far you can change it before it becomes unrecognisable. There are certain core elements of every text which makes it intrinsically that text, and Fennell removed many of the key aspects that makes Wuthering Heights, well, Wuthering Heights. I’m not even going to begin to cover all the things she changed because that would end up with me writing a novel-length post myself. I could hardly see any similarities aside from the character names being the same.

One thing I’m a tiny bit glad of is that the movie does lean into the anachronistic style that originally had everyone up in arms over the inaccuracy of Catherine’s wedding dress seen in photos dating to 2024. I can appreciate a full commitment to this vision despite the dissonance one feels when watching, but again, it could’ve gone a bit further by eliminating the more traditional costumes—the mix didn’t quite work in my opinion.

While I would’ve suggested that Fennell wrote a movie and marketed it as ‘inspired by Wuthering Heights’, but my guess is the reason she didn’t was the whole point—to get all the outrage and attention for how provocative (the movie didn’t even have any nudity lmao, so funny) the imagery was in contrast to such a beloved classic book not c. But then it begs the question—was her obvious miscasting of Heathcliff just another attention grab? And if so, why are we still taking roles of POC away from POC? Why are we still casting characters of colour as white people?

The other option is less ill-meaning but more self-serving of Fennell’s personal fantasies—she misread the very substance of Heathcliff and just really likes the (completely out of character) idea of him as a longing, steamy, pining soft boy who is obsessed with the love of his life, just not in a creepy way. There’s nothing wrong with a period romance in this fashion, but you can’t make this movie and claim it’s Wuthering Heights, even if you put quotations around it. I don’t even think it was a particularly good romance—two beautiful people don’t necessarily make a beautiful story all on their own by looking pretty.

The creep of ragebait into art is, simply, not good. It degrades the quality of the media produced, as seen by the many middling reviews by audiences and critics alike. It is a less enjoyable experience; I found the movie to be much less exciting than it purported to be; I thought it was actually a very basic romance and aside from the drama surrounding its release and some nice shots there wasn’t much special about it. It was too long, the acting wasn’t particularly outstanding (except I thought Hong Chau gave a good performance as Nelly), Cathy was annoying, Heathcliff was inconsistent, the plot was predictable. It’s a shame I spent 6€ on it. My one piece of advice to my sister (and anyone else): don’t spend yours on it too

.

Regardless of the reason for his popularity, Pete Davidson seems to be successful in starting relationships, but perhaps not for holding on to them for very long. A lot of these flings are just that—flings, which last maybe a few months on average. But if we contrast the way Davidson is generally regarded (as well-liked, with admiration, a bit of jealousy from men) and the way women like Taylor Swift have historically been treated due to their dating history, the difference is appalling. Now, I am not often one to defend Taylor Swift (as seen in my recent essay on being a hater of her) but the way she was talked about in the media circa her album 1989 (around 2014ish) was pretty awful to say the least. She had dated eight or so men up to that point and was frequently dragged as a slut by professional media.

Of course these are two very different time periods. Swift may not have been exposed to the same treatment if she was still dating like she had been earlier, but she might very well have experienced a similar onslaught if she wasn’t in two significantly long relationships (her six year partnership with Joe Alwyn and her engagement to Travis Kelce). A more recent example of the female dating witch-hunt is the love triangle between Olivia Rodrigo, Joshua Bassett and Sabrina Carpenter, with Carpenter being torn apart for apparently ‘homewrecking’ the relationship of the two former. She specifically mentions this in the lyrics to her song all because i liked a boy: ‘I’m a homewrecker, I’m a slut / I got death threats filling up semi-trucks’.

Carpenter’s love triangle dating situation is not that alike to Swift’s case of ‘dating too much’, but the reaction was fairly similar—though I would say Swift’s was much more wide spread, moving beyond the confines of social media standom and into general debate among the public. I can’t think of any examples of celebrities currently who face the overdating backlash, so I’m not certain if the same rhetoric would play out again as Swift’s over ten years ago. But I don’t think it would be crazy to say that there would be at least a small section of the internet who would level these accusations at this hypothetical celebrity or influencer.

Meanwhile Pete Davidson remains relatively unscathed, only receiving questions along the lines of ‘how does he pull so many hot women’. No character judgements so far as I’ve seen. It feels like such a basic observation, and it really is—but the workings of the patriarchy lie in plain sight and go on unobstructed. Perhaps everyone else has come to this conclusion without voicing it or perhaps this conversation has already happened.

Nevertheless, I’d like raise it (again?) as it feels like there’s always some sort of iteration of slut being used, even recently with ‘bop’ targeting younger girls who are seen as promiscuous by their peers. These sort of terms are used freely by other girls their age; their classmates, their teammates, their acquaintances—who don’t seem to recognise it is just a synonym for slut that doesn’t carry the historical weight built up in that of words such as harlot, whore, or even jezebel. It only reinforces the stigma and stereotypes associated with sexuality and relationships with others. This is where patriarchy is its most dangerous: it is planted in our heads that ‘bop’ is just describing undesirable behaviour and that it is invented by girls, to be used on girls. It is an insidious poison that makes us think it is our idea, but it is a weapon that keeps us occupied with infighting rather than turning criticism on the men who do the same thing, or the men who benefit from our unawareness of their machinations.

While I don’t think it’s always safe to engage in sexual relations as a minor (and even as an adult) mainly because of misinformation and a lack of cognitive maturity, I don’t think it’s useful to shame young girls and women from feeling desire or sexuality. That will only cause repression and turning to unhealthy habits, or destroying self esteem. We’ve seen it in the generations of women before us. I can’t help but sound therapy-ish in every article I write, but my god am I frustrated.

I’m not saying we should slut-shame Pete Davidson, but maybe we should stop allowing these double standards to slip by unheeded. It’s certainly improved over the years, and the sadistic part of me is glad to see Leonardo di Caprio can’t escape the ‘won’t date over 25’ allegations. It would just be nice to stop wielding women’s sexuality as the worst thing they can have. We’d all be happier for it.

There must be something going on the Wicked set, for these women do not look well. Despite Ariana insisting people stop commenting on her difference in weight (several times in fact), even if it ‘comes from a place of love’, I think it is unproductive to just ignore such drastic shifts in appearance from people in the public eye. They are the ones who set trends, and though I do agree that it is unfair and oftentimes detrimental, they put themselves in the spotlight willingly, knowing the consequences that comes with fame and fortune. A lot of this is awful and purely for the purpose of enjoyment and an emotional outlet etc. for people online, and it is a bad characteristic of our society to think that we have the rights to body shame a celebrity (mainly women) because we believe we are owed the right to be faceless bullies. But this does not negate the importance of meaningful discussion around the body trends that are a fixture of the entertainment industry and how these trickle down to us nobodys.

When Ariana asks for us to stop discussing her dramatic weight loss, she is stopping us from actively dissecting the re-emergence of heroin chic (and its iterations) in popular culture. While arguably all body trends are unhealthy, this is possibly the most harmful towards women as it is more accessible to work towards than the Kardashian BBL (which requires lots of disposable income to attain the surgery)—all one has to do is develop an eating disorder, which is practically free (unless you pay to join Liv Schmidt’s Skinni Société of course). Encouraging the malnourishing of women is a surefire way to keep us subdued—we are only focusing on ourselves and how we appear to others, rather than noticing the horrific events going on around us at a larger scale. Rights being stripped back, children being murdered, economic pressure increasing… in these type of periods conservatism rises and with it skinny culture rears its ugly head, promising women their lives will improve if they just slim down a bit. It can’t be ignored that a lot of Ariana’s fans are younger women and girls, and if she has chosen to speak about this and defend her current look, she is sending the message that this (appearance of) extreme is healthy and she is happy—so if we want to be healthy and happy, why wouldn’t we follow her example?

A big jump from a pop star/actor to these issues, no? Celebrities are emblematic of these cultural shifts and rise of different ideals, and it is not trivial to interrogate what they present to the public. There is so much to say on her; from her race swapping to her alleged cheating scandals… But I do hope that she has support from people in her life, as I would not wish anyone to go through an eating disorder (though she may already have, around 2013—but this is speculation on my part as I am going off the word of others).

Then there is the Cynthia Erivo of it all, who has recently been parodied for being ‘strong’ after protecting Ariana from a fan who grabbed at her. Despite her being also extremely thin now, she has been memed as manly just for reacting quickly and trying to keep her friend safe. Men are dressing up as Cynthia and making skits of this situation. It feels a bit weird that people are masculinising her in this way even when she presents herself in more feminine-coded clothes, especially as she is a queer Black woman. I understand they’re jokes (and not really mean-spirited), but they feel off. They may just really be laughing at her actions, but is it really that over the top to want to stop your friend from being (possibly) attacked? She couldn’t have known that the fan was rage-baiting for attention (and the security guards were very slow to act lmao). Maybe I’m reading too far into it, but I’ve heard there are worse examples that lean into racism and misogyny, though I haven’t seen any myself. This all stands in sharp contrast to how Ariana is behaving in the Wicked press, not only speaking in a very high and breathy voice but also moving delicately, a little bit like she’s trying to emulate a child ballet dancer—this is just my impression.

These actors are the perfect storm of absurdity fodder for the internet, with these personalities becoming heightened in their interviews where they look like they can’t let go of each other or stop crying. They seem to have bonded deeply over the years they spent filming Wicked, and while I’m sure they have a nice friendship, at times it appears to be unhealthy. They could be crying so much because they’re just emotional people, but it could also be due to a lack of nutrients decreasing their ability to regulate their emotions and responses. From the outside it also looks like they have competitive eating disorders, stemming from both societal pressures and the human tendency towards comparison that grows when you spend a large amount of time with other performers in a similar role to yourself, in this case. Their intense relationship does sometimes give the vibe that they’re seeing each other romantically too. I know there are definitely female friendships out there that are like this, but there is something going on between those two, be it trauma bonding and dependency, competitive EDs or even another cheating scandal. I would like to reiterate: all of these thoughts are just my opinion and my perception of the situation.

Even as a stranger I am concerned for them both. It’s not nice to see another person look like they’re a fragile shell of themselves. For both health reasons and for the shaming they receive, which I think is unproductive—but if we turn too far the other way and pretend there’s nothing wrong, then we risk allowing this pattern to continue even more than it already does. Even if they say they’re healthy, they don’t look like it—and they know that we all know that. So why keep denying? Why swallow the snake’s tail? I think we all know the reason why.

I hesitate to drift too far into the brainless animosity towards Taylor Swift in particular, especially as there is a history of misogyny-influenced hostility (though I’d argue that isn’t the full story—she participates in a fair amount of self-victimisation and some of the more recent backlash results from perfectly reasonable criticism *ahem private jet and 34 vinyl variants*). When she was still pretty young in the music industry, she did receive unfair and negative commentary because she was marketed towards teenage girls, a notoriously despised group due to their perceived ‘cringiness’ and fangirling. I’ll spare you the details. However, I don’t think her struggles are even close to what other women in the music industry face—I don’t mean to diminish her experience but the prevalence of racism and how it has dehumanised women of colour (particularly rappers) is incomparable.

I was quite an avid fan of Taylor’s for several years during high school to the point that she was just about the only music I listened to. I certainly wasn’t a superfan, but I really enjoyed her discography. I haven’t listened to her music voluntarily for over a year now. I can’t even begin to document the turning point for me; it’s become very clear in the past few years exactly what sort of person she is, despite what she pretends to be/acts like she is/broadcasts to us for our consumption. She is highly palatable when you see her perform, hear her emotional music or watch her documentary, Miss Americana. It was naive of me to believe what she was saying in that—but can you blame me for wanting to see the best in her? For believing the narrative that she was describing with her own words, about her journey from (apparently) being encouraged to be silent on her political opinions to proudly voicing her support for democratic values, stating she wants ‘to be on the right side of history’. When someone says things like this, it’s a tiny bit disingenuous to just immediately call it a farce, especially when she is emotionally arguing against her father and her management, insisting she should be able to express liberal opinions.

But looking back on it now, Miss Americana is Taylor’s scapegoat. Even if she doesn’t explicitly say it, her fans say it for her—’No no, she is against the Trump administration, didn’t you see what she said 5 (nearly 6) years ago when she doesn’t care that Trump likes her music 25% less because she endorsed a democratic candidate? And when she made a petition supporting gay people???’ It also might be her biggest mistake—in saying that she won’t ‘stay silent’, she holds herself to the standard that she set, and it stands in greater contrast now when the White House is using her songs in their awful Tiktoks. Her peers including Beyonce, Sabrina Carpenter, Olivia Rodrigo and many more have all denounced the unsolicited use of their songs in ICE and other Trump administration related Tiktoks. It’s strange to see Taylor’s staunch backbone in the realm of copyright strikes (with her even taking down a wedding vlog from a random couple on Youtube that had a song of hers as the backing track) completely disappear when such a prolific and malignant force has taken album The Life of a Showgirl as their new conservative anthem. Taylor is only liberal when it’s safe enough to do so. She was years late to denounce Trump, and she’s mute again with the conservative sweep across culture.

On a more trivial note, the new album is just… bad. As noted by countless others, the clumsy lyrics and dry instrumentals (also often plagiarising: see Wood vs. the Jackson 5’s I Want You Back). Speaking of Wood, she seems to be trying to do a poor Sabrina Carpenter mimic, which comes off forced and awkward when she tries to sell ‘his love was the key that opened my thighs’. I’m surprised Travis hasn’t called off the engagement after hearing that, but he probably thinks it’s incredibly flattering. I did not want to hear about his ‘redwood tree’ and I don’t think many people did. If this is Taylor at her happiest, I don’t want to imagine what happens when they actually get married. Maybe we’ll get a tribute to the New Heights of romance of their wedding night.

A lot of Swifties keep defending her album and saying something like ‘All her albums get hate when they first come out, and then they become classics’, parroting Taylor’s interview where she menacingly said ‘if it’s the first week of my album release and you are saying either my name or my album title, you’re helping’. On one hand I think she does think this, what with her capitalistic empire, but on the other hand I think she’s deeply hurt by the criticism (except for that 5 stars from Rolling Stone! Bought out much?). She’s always chasing awards and love from the public—her reaction to reputation being left out of the Grammys spoke volumes. She was choking up on her couch, insisting she ‘just needs to make a better record’. I think she cares a lot, no matter how much she wants to pretend she is cool and offline and unbothered. Nothing wrong with caring, but she could show a bit more care to how her public image is deteriorating with her growing controversies. From weird, racist-toned digs at her fiancé’s ex Kayla Nicole, a Black woman and her icky attack on Charli xcx for writing a song about her insecurities to her environmental destruction and greed in exploiting fans by encouraging them to purchase every single variation of her album… the internet has had a rare occasion of almost full unification in a single opinion. Nothing like a little healthy Taylor Swift hate to bring us all together.

The internet is notoriously divided into countless camps, with many people seldom interacting with the same content. With the death of monoculture and rise of customised algorithms, it’s not often that a large portion of people share an opinion. But it feels good to hate the new album. It feels like community almost, which is a silly thing to say—but being able to have a common ground to discuss with just about anyone is nice in this age of social estrangement. People who didn’t like her before are coming out of the woodwork, and many fans are disappointed by the album and say it’s far from her best work (some say it’s her worst). I do find it suspicious that it still has so many streams, however; just as her weird takeover of Apple Music on social media was dubious.

The Taylor Swift tide is turning, and I genuinely hope that she gets her head screwed on. I want her to be knocked off her pedestal, and for her ego to be overwhelmed by grace and empathy. The odds of that happening are slight, though, unless she decides not to conform to the opinions of those around her (hanging out with Republicans all the time… I have a sneaking feeling Travis is not not one of them, and then by extension so is she; Aryan goddess queen slay!!1!1). Only time will tell, but I bet she’ll release another documentary in 5 years saying she was forced to keep quiet for her own safety during this tumultuous period. But not all of us have the luxury of taking a private jet for a 10 minute flight away from danger, Taylor. I look forward to your either full shift into the right wing or complete revamp into the left wing. Only some people are given the grace of playing to both sides—the rest of us quite literally cannot. People are dying, Taylor!

It seems that the more I want to love Sabrina Carpenter, the more she does stuff like…this (this being things strangely linked to young teenage girls mixed in with sexual innuendos and blatant cosplay). It’s like she can’t help herself.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: I love Sabrina’s music. She’s a talented singer and she’s proved her ability to create a cohesive world with her three most recent albums in particular, with some of the best visuals for a pop star I’ve seen in Short ‘n’ Sweet. I’ve discussed some of her controversies and the double bind she’s been tangled in since her raunchy rebrand in this post. Essays on Sabrina have been done to death, but I find myself getting more and more frustrated as she doubles down again and again on her sexy baby aesthetic.

She received quite a lot of backlash for her Lolita-esque photoshoot, to which she responded with denial that she had seen the movie before.

You would think that after seeing a large number of people express distaste for these aspects of her brand (there are plenty more—my previous essay covers pretty much all of them) she would decide to divorce from these harmful aesthetics. Evidently, as seen by her SNL performance of Manchild (pictured above), she’s happy to play into the narrative that she’s a real life Polly Pocket, a ‘niña’ because she’s just so small.

I think Sabrina expressing her sexuality is a good thing, especially in an increasingly conservative world. However, I think she leans too much into intentionally polarising visuals to garner attention and create viral moments. She’s not alone in this, of course; the internet struggles to hold onto things of middling interest, of average excitement—performances are dialled to 11 and are only remembered or lingered on when they are unique and/or shocking. Even then, they’re fleeting, disappearing as fast as our attention spans with each flick of the finger on the For You page.

The comments under the SNL live Manchild (at least the ones Youtube showed me) praise Sabrina for dressing up like a girl in her bedroom, lauding her ‘relatability’ as she dances and prances on the bed and wiggles her butt. But Sabrina’s sheer success isolates her from this experience. She is a millionaire popstar, a household name, celebrity and 26 years old. At 20 I feel further from this golden girlhood than she seems to be. She’s putting on another costume to appeal to the girl’s girl rhetoric that has continued to seep into culture, its foothold less pronounced than 2024 but still highly influential.

Arguably every popstar and every celebrity and every musician is putting on a performance—which is fine, I guess, though I’m getting a bit tired of it (though I understand the need to protect the private self from the scrutiny of the public)—but Sabrina is using teenage girls (and already highly sexualised and vulnerable group) to promote her music, artistry and image. She is at once infantalising herself (despite the juxtaposition of her acting out sex positions on stage and her lewd lyrics) and eroticising teen girls. She is setting unrealistic standards for the demographic she is pretending to be one of, and she is setting unrealistic expectations for everyone who falls without of the population. Why don’t teenage girls look like Sabrina? They should—she’s sexy, so that gives me an excuse to sexualise them.

I could be giving her too much weight in this broader societal debate, but popstars and the like are often role models for teen girls, whether we like it or not. They create and bury trends, and are commonly deemed the arbiters of taste, which can trickle down to how teens behave. It is healthy to explore who you are through music and media, but I think artists have a responsibility to (crazy thought here) not pander to pedophilic ideals. It isn’t their responsibility to monitor who comes to their concerts (ahem parents) but I feel I shouldn’t even have to type that previous sentence. I don’t think she’s oblivious, but that’s almost worse—that would mean she’s complicit in creating this [current iteration of the] genre of sexy teens that is dominating her star. Presuming ignorance isn’t fair either.

All this to say I just wish she would stop. This aesthetic has been done a thousand times, notably with Britney; and we all know how that turned out. It’s tired, it’s regressive, it’s harmful and reductive. We don’t need to see more of it, especially from one of the most prolific singers of pop culture at the moment. And we also don’t need the blind glazing (can’t believe I used that word…) and admiration for Sabrina’s behaviour and refusal to take accountability or listen to people’s legitimate concerns. Please, embrace your sexuality and artistry in any other way—just don’t bring minors into it.

one final note: the lyric ‘i choose to blame your mom’ in Manchild makes me more annoyed each time i listen to it. i think there’s also something to be said for how she writes toxic men—she knows they’re bad for her, yet she indulges them and then blames their mothers for how they turned out?? i think she does often mock men in a very satisfying way, but it’s not quite backed up by the actual criticism or bite that i wanted from man’s best friend. gimme your thoughts!

The influence of Korean media has been pretty big for the last 15 years or so, but within the past 5 years (give or take) it seems to have exploded. Though it certainly isn’t the most dominant media empire across the world—that still belongs to America—it is rapidly staking a larger and larger hold in the industry. It is already massive in Asia but recently it has become even more ubiquitous, with Kpop stars like Jenny acting in the HBO show The Idol and Rosé collaborating with Bruno Mars on the smashhit APT. Squid Game is Netflix’s most watched show with its first season racking up 265.2 million views, beating Wednesday in second place by 13.1 million views. Korean skincare is highly sought after by many in the beauty sphere.

Though I don’t think the Western world will ever fully leave Hollywood behind, the decline in quality across the board of some of their biggest franchises (think Marvel, Taylor Swift, Disney, most major blockbusters) has left a gap in the market and audiences craving something fresh. So many of Disney’s recent animated features have failed to break into mainstream pop culture and have the same impact that Frozen, Moana and Toy Story did. Enter KPop Demon Hunters, the very on-the-nose titled animated feature that exploded in popularity since its release in June this year. Its fun concept, banging songs and touching story have resonated with millions of people of all ages across the world. It feels familiar enough to appeal to global audiences but original enough to stand out from the crowd. While it is a Sony produced film, its emphasis on Korean culture does differ vastly from Sony’s other animated ventures, which are primarily set in the USA or some fictional equivalent.

The slow demise of Hollywood’s crown jewels has allowed more indie films and artists of all backgrounds to come to the forefront, resulting in some fabulous unconventional films in particular. They’ve always been there, but they feel especially visible as the movies with the biggest budgets flop like dominos. I’ve explored more international film markets recently and have been delighted in how unregimented they feel in comparison to those of formulaic Hollywood. So far all the Korean movies or shows I’ve seen are absolutely brilliant.

The cultural influence of the USA as a whole is diminishing in legitimacy as Trump’s presidency erodes their image on the international stage, with the endless parade of each human rights crises after another. People seem to value less and less what American institutions are saying, as evidenced by the slowing viewership of award shows like the Grammys and the Oscars. Don’t get me wrong; the USA is still the pervasive media hegemon that it’s been for the last 70 yrs+, but every empire must come to an end and on all levels, the US looks like it’s approaching its twilight. I’m tired of America and the sentiment of most other Australians is pretty similar. I can’t speak for the rest of the world but I know Europe isn’t the most fond of Trump at least.

The large studios in Hollywood seem to take fewer and fewer risks with their creative projects. But, when they do, they complain that they get no attention—but the support in terms of budget and marketing are no where near that to those they give to their sloppier, mass-market material. I’m not very familiar with how South Korea approaches their cultural capital, but I do know that their government has consistently dedicated billions of dollars to promote K-culture. It’s a form of soft power which creates a positive, desirable image of their country which encourages tourism, trade and good political favour. This focus on becoming a lead cultural exporter has been in the works for over 25 years. They’re well on their way to achieving that position—like Huntr/x, they’re going up, up, up (sorry).

I for one think it’s nice to see a little more diversity in who is creating our pop culture and hear some different perspectives come into the light. Parasite (2019) is a thought-provoking film that provides a blunt window into the lives of working class Korean families, something which is often hid under the touristic gloss that countries try to hide their skeletons with. For an international film with its subject matter to win Best Film at the Oscars is no small feat, and it was one of the first ‘official’ moments that signalled the growing strength of K-culture (the Grammys have only ever nominated BTS in 2021 but they did not win an award).

Only time will tell if Hollywood slows and is overwhelmed by K-culture—for those in the Western world I don’t think the American influence will ever truly fade, not after their structures are so well-established. It will likely still be the dominant force in the West, but hopefully we can make room for more pop culture of other backgrounds, and not just those of South Korea. My film watching experience is already so much more interesting now that I’m not just watching American films. Lord knows I’m not going to spend $24 on something like Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania again.

When I first heard about everyone having a moral panic about the so-called ‘epidemic of performative men’ I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Surely it’s not a bad thing for men to experiment with fashion and interests beyond that what is mainstream masculine? Where I live, I have hardly seen any guys dress in this style, which I find infinitely more interesting and cool than the uniform of grey basketball shorts, socks and slides and a wrinkled T-shirt. To start with a positive note, I do think the dress-up contests are fun and a good way to build community among young people, but I think the thing they’re bonding over is a bit misguided.

Why are we mocking (and even shaming) men for dressing outside of the gender binary? It’s not even particularly outlandish, but god forbid anyone other than a woman wear nail polish.

I understand the wariness that these type of men can elicit in women in particular, perceiving them as appearing ‘soft’ to cover up all their emotional manipulation you only discover further on in the relationship. They’re wolves in sheep’s clothing, fooling the shepherd until it’s a little too late. ‘They don’t care about feminist literature’; ‘their jewellery doesn’t reflect their true taste’; ‘they’re just trying to impress women’; ‘they actually hate matcha’. Jesus christ, calm down. I hate to be a man defender, but if it was a woman doing the same thing, no one would bat an eye (actually I’m sure someone would find a problem with it, somehow). I share a lot of these interests but no one’s ever called me out on it.

What if…people actually like this stuff? And they’re not trying to lure in innocent women? I’m sure there absolutely are feminine manipulator men (even putting those words together is ridiculous) who use this style to their advantage, but is it really the end of the world if a man is reading a book (ANY book) in public? Even the act of reading outside your house is deemed performative these days, be it feminist literature or not. God forbid you read on the commute to work to pass the time instead of scrolling on your phone (what a weirdo!). And even if they are reading for attention, they’re still reading. Which we should be encouraging?! They’re still taking in feminist words, which is vastly better than men who avoid it or don’t bother (yes, it’s bare minimum, but you can’t find that much these days unfortunately). Reading is not reserved for women or ‘intellectuals’, it should be something everyone does. I am a strong proponent for wide and diverse reading, which can truly teach you something about someone else’s experience (yes it sounds like words, but it’s genuinely so valuable and I’m sick of people immediately assuming people are reading to be perceived in a certain light).

We shouldn’t be discouraging men from experimenting and exploring outside that which is deemed societally acceptable for them. As long as it’s not attached with harmful dating behaviours or emotional stunting or surface level progressivism, then it should be good, right? Of course the linking of the two concepts—feminine-coded man and manipulation—seems to create a intrinsic association with each other, leading the negative behaviour to be difficult to separate from the fem-coded side. Is this just the new term for ‘metrosexual’ or ‘you look gay’, which are almost inherently seen as an unfavourable characteristic for men? There are plenty of queer men who dress like this and like some of the common music of the performative male. Are we just demonising non-normative masculinity? Perhaps it’s coming with the conservative shift (or perhaps it’s just something the internet needs to latch onto, especially with the proliferation of dating horror stories and romance advice online), but we’re putting people into tighter boxes once again. Just when I thought things were getting better.

‘At least you know what to expect when you see a finance bro/some other red-flag style of dress’, people might say. But…have you ever heard of don’t judge a book by its cover? I’ve met some people who appear like someone I don’t think I would get along with, and they turn out to be absolutely lovely. I’m sure most people have had at least one of these experiences. Why must we always assume someone’s personality and values and actions based on their appearance? I’m guilty of this too, but it seems to be a human thing to reduce people into flat shapes to sort out who we want to be around and who we don’t. Sometimes our instincts are right, but sometimes they aren’t.

The patriarchy will always be worse for women, but its constriction on men is pretty darn awful too. If they don’t conform, they can be mercilessly mocked and struggle to connect meaningfully with other men. While they don’t face the physical dangers women do, I can’t imagine that the emotional suppression is healthy either. There is a lack of widely popular positive male role models with the same reach as people on the other side of the spectrum (ahem Andr*w T*te).

Needless to say, most of this discourse is light hearted, but there is still harm to how men feel pressured to present. I think gender expression is a very personal experience that everyone should be allowed to experiment with, and shaming the feminine man is in the same vein as insisting women should be tradwives or some derivative. It’s so infinitely stupid that this is still happening in the big 2025, even if it isn’t malicious. Go drink some matcha and listen to Clairo. I’ll do the same, the internet makes me too mad.

there’s quite a bit of anger in this post, but i’m genuinely just so annoyed with how dumb the internet seems to get with every passing day. i need to touch some grass lol

Why am I so eager to know if celebrities enjoy each other’s company? It’s not even romance or dating that I’m interested in—honestly, I find it so much sweeter to see people care about another in a purely platonic way. Relationships end—as do friendships, of course—but at a much greater frequency than the latter. A bond that lasts for years without physical attraction to draw it together is much more appealing to me; in the absence of desire of that kind one can find desire for the meeting of minds alone.

Maybe it’s the queer in me that values my friendships so vastly—I’ve reached the stage where I would be perfectly content if I never dated anyone if I could talk to my friends all the time. I’m so incredibly lucky to have a circle of such brilliant, kind, hilarious, smart, silly, passionate and thoughtful people whom I love beyond words. Maybe it’s this prioritisation of found family over a whirlwind romance (though I am a romantic at heart) that leads me to be so inordinately happy when I see that celebrities, who are often so far removed and sheltered from us, share a lasting love for their friends too. They’re just like us! Yes and no. Yes they’re human, but their wealth and status shields them from a lot of the problems that could wedge themselves in the middle of a relationship, like struggling to find time to see friends because they live on the other side of the country and you can’t afford a plane ticket. I’m sure they have issues with scheduling too, but their level of freedom is incomparable.

When Charli XCX and Lorde broke the internet with their raw collaboration on ‘girl, so confusing’ last year, I think there was a collective moment of catharsis for a good number of people online. I had no idea they’d lowkey been feuding since Lorde came onto the music scene and was compared to Charli for their perceived similarities in appearance and music (with Charli even being fully mistaken for Lorde in an interview), but listening to that song, as cheesy as it sounds, felt healing.

They seem to have a strong bond after resolving the tension and I’m genuinely happy for them. Maybe there’s something unresolved in me that needs to be experienced vicariously through the lives of others. Maybe I just love to see people who love other people but not in the way that culture prioritises in the [pick your trope] lovers. Maybe it’s a parasocial relationship. Maybe it’s unhealthy. Maybe it’s the individualist mindset built into my brain from societal structures. I’m not sure exactly what it is; it’s probably a bit of everything. Regardless, maybe we’re all a little lonely and we need to spend more time with other people. God knows I need to cut down my screen time—maybe I should stop looking at others living life and go live it more myself (though I know I’ll still be happy for these guys).

for my friends xx you know who you are <3

sorry for the long break everyone! been busy and demotivated, i’ve got a lot of ideas i’ll hopefully write on more regularly!

If I cannot speak, at least I can write

If my mouth cannot form words

Or my tongue twists just so

At least I can trust my hand to speak for me,

The phantom limb inside my body stretching

Through endless corridors of wax fusing together

The span of nothing births more nothing

Which divides and splits its ribs

To breed a phantom of the unrequited,

The truth of my organs (vital?) curled by the limb

To inscribe into stone, into sound

Is it stung by the scorpion?

Are the words now carrion?

Or shall they be eaten, by more to come?

Shall the pages travel through veins

To become one with the placenta of the new?

I dream of beheading countless snakes

They do not stop, and neither do I.

In the desolation of early morning I search

Looking, for the mystery

A new one from the skies, I tilt my chin

But waiting will not bring martyrdom nor glory

I cannot beg for something I would not kill for.

Mummified memories, come down unto me

The divine will not save you,

Nor interludes unfurling between the sun’s tired hike

Gossamer distinctions found my life,

In flux I haul my burden,

Hailing from nowhere

It is better this way.

In the instant I strike the tablet.

Stone will preserve the now,

The juncture between the neck and shoulder of time;

Goodbye, doppler,

I fear I have scared you, for now you rush away.

We are briefly circular,

And from our end we will return to begin again.

The right to comment is a whole other issue for those in the public eye, especially since body shaming women is so persistent. Are we permitted to voice our thoughts on their face and bodies, be it worry or anger, because they ‘chose’ this life? While I understand that the majority of singers and actors might prefer you to critique their work and not their appearances, the body is political. For example, the recent explosion of Ozempic (and other similar drugs) use by celebrities unravels messages of body positivity that many of them have preached in the past. ‘You are perfect just as you are but I’m going to get skinny to fit the beauty standard because I can afford it and you can’t therefore I’m cooler 💋’. Ariana Grande would prefer her fans not tell her they’re worried after seeing her dramatic weight loss; she’d prefer they say nothing at all except that they’re happy that she’s ‘at [her] healthiest’. Meghan Trainor changed the lyrics of All About That Bass, a famously body positive anthem of 2014, from ‘Yeah it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no size two,’ to ‘Yeah it's pretty clear, I got some new boobs’ after she began taking Mounjaro and lost weight.

It’s a tricky line to walk, critiquing the hollow words and actions of celebrities after being prompted by such visible changes to their bodies without it coming across as an attack without thought. There are, after all, endless trolls and awful people who camp out on the internet to target their next victim. So, do we have a right to comment? How celebrities behave with beauty procedures and the like eventually trickles down to us—the BBL craze of the 2010s sparked (by the Kardashians of course) a tidal wave of women who underwent the dangerous, life-threatening procedure to emulate what was deemed attractive at the time.

We’re seeing the same thing again, but trend cycles are getting shorter and shorter. The Kardashians reversed their BBLs and everyone else has followed suit, wasting away through the screen as teenage girls and young women listen to Liv Schmidt’s uninformed nonsense. It’ll change again once thinness becomes too accessible for the masses. The richest just have to be ahead of the curve, the unattainable, selfish gods who proclaim they’re ‘just like us’. They just want to keep stealing our money as they benefit from the privileges of beauty and youth.

Back to Kylie—people were mad when she denied plastic surgery allegations for years, until she gradually began admitting that yes, she did get lip fillers at 17, and yes, she did get a boob job at 19. People felt gratified to have confirmation to what we’d already known for years; it was frustrating when she kept insisting she overlined her lips and actually, you could get her look if you just bought her lip kit. And now she’s given every note that was on her surgeon’s checklist for her boob job.

It’s quite sad when you think about it, wanting to augment your body at such a young age and having permission from your parents to do so (a small part of them must think that you need it). Most young women these days do want to change their appearance, and the cycle perpetuates itself with every person who gets fillers, Botox, invasive surgery…

But does giving this cohort of unsatisfied people the exact tools and information to achieving your sought-after look improve things for everyone? It makes Kylie appear less haughty and more down to earth, sure, but now people know exactly what to do to ‘feel better’ about themselves. I watched a video by marc insco that argued that celebrities gatekeeping plastic surgery (like actors getting jacked with steroids or being incredibly toned and slim) is actually better for the public. He explains that then we know that we shouldn’t even bother trying because it’s futile. That influencers like Liv Schmidt detailing their exact steps to being rail thin is even worse than lying and saying ‘I eat a pizza a day and climb some stairs sometimes’. I think he has some merit, but I think people will do dangerous things to look like their idols regardless of whether they or not they reveal specifics. I do agree that giving precise facts or routines does exacerbate the public’s actions towards reaching the ‘ideal’.

We should also be very careful throwing out the term ‘girl’s girl’ for providing the exact details for (part of) the plastic surgery that has helped make a whole generation of young women insecure and unsatisfied in themselves. Is that not a contradiction of the very term itself? Why should we praise this comment? The ubiquitous phrase ‘girl’s girl’ grew exponentially from what seemed a fairly innocent celebration of female solidarity to an exclusionary tactic in social media’s usual fashion. Now it’s an insult to not be called a girl’s girl, but if you are deemed one by the court of public opinion, you’re cool.

Also y’all I hate to say it but… unless you’re a multi-millionaire at the least you will not be able to afford Kylie Jenner’s plastic surgeon. Even before she name-dropped him I can imagine his rates were already nigh unachievable.

To return to the original question: is full transparency of celebrities regarding their plastic surgery really what we as a society need? I think some degree is necessary for the impressionable youth to know it’s not natural to look like that, but perhaps this level Kylie has shared is a little too much. Will we have an army of clones if she shares what she did for her face? I’d argue we already do, if you take a short scroll through Instagram or Tiktok. And that’s with her denying getting ‘surgery to change [her] whole face’, only fillers.

We shouldn’t forget that she’s also said she ‘just wishes [she] never got them done to begin with’ in reference to her breast augmentation. Perhaps those looking to emulate her might regret it, just as Kylie’s said she does. The standard will change anyway, so why bother?

But then I hear people comparing him to Freddie Mercury and my god, my blood just boils. My friend did me the disservice of making me listen to his latest song, ‘Mystical Magical’ and never have I so dearly wanted to throw my laptop out the window and my earbuds for good measure so that I might never have to hear such a sound in such close proximity to my eardrums. ‘Moonbeam ice cream, taking off your blue jeans…’ I very nearly ended things. I’m scared for his new album. A little surprised he’s not a nepo baby, with lyrics like these.

Am I being dramatic? Absolutely. But this singer (if he can even be called that…) has reached such insane heights for what he’s putting out that I can’t help but be so utterly incensed. How dare they compare his yelling self to Freddie Mercury? Do they even know who Freddie Mercury is? Or did they just see Benson Boone wearing a jumpsuit and think ‘yeah he looks like that guy from Princess—I mean Queenie? Queen?’ (Apparently he did a cover of Bohemian Rhapsody. I hate it here.)

Benson Boone is so incredibly bland that all his songs feel like he’s overcompensating for the lack of flavour by trying to add a bit of mayonnaise, a dash of condensed milk and a healthy sprinkle of cumin to his music. At first, by looking at that infamous jumpsuit I mentioned earlier, he reminded me of a Harry Styles ripoff—but even that’s being generous. And I’m not too much of a Harry fan either.

I hate to say it, but he also reminds me a (just a smidge) of a male Gracie Abrams. I think it’s the music that doesn’t resonate with me (sorry once again Gracie stans!) but while I do not like Gracie, I have an inexplicable loathing for Benson. I do not appreciate his screaming technique—it feels extremely out of place and I’m afraid I think he just can’t pull it off. But apparently MTV Video Music Awards does not agree with me! He won the 2024 award for best ‘alternative’ video. I would argue the only ‘alternative’ aspect of his music is that it makes me want to immediately alternate from his songs. He was also, shamefully, nominated for the 2025 Grammy for Best New Artist. Thankfully, the wonderful Chappell Roan saved the day and my nerves and I was more than happy to applaud her rather than do a BensonScream™ at the screen from injustice.

How—and why—is this so popular and even critically praised by award shows? (Arguably music critics themselves may feel different, but from a quick browse they seem to be mildly positive towards him? Except for Pitchfork and a couple of others.) I can’t quite put my finger on what is so unsavoury about ‘Beautiful Things’ but all I know is that his voice manages to make hitting the note correctly sound off key. I’m still not quite convinced it is in tune. But the broader picture—is it the inescapable curse of the mediocre white person striking once again? I’m glad there is some consensus that he just isn’t all that, because otherwise I might lose faith in our ability to think for ourselves. Like the demonic Labubu craze going on right now, where I’m convinced some of you might just like to spend/follow the herd if that damned-hell-destined doll is trending.

I feel a tiny bit bad contributing to the ‘backlash’ that Boone has addressed at least once. I understand it’s a hard life in the music industry, and criticism (even if it’s just hate) is tougher, but I can’t help wondering why I even know his name. I shouldn’t, even when this is the music that’s being pushed to the top of the charts. I think it should be hiding in the crevices of TikTok, not beaming in the middle of the mainstream. Sorry you’re copping it, Benson (on the 100% chance that you’re reading this, of course), but I am tired of average, common artists like yourself getting so much success when talented people are shunted off to the side to make room for someone like you (…industry plant anyone?).

I wish I had more concrete evidence to back up my distaste, but other than his music feeling like it’s trying to hard to stand out while being terribly safe, I don’t have a lot more. But sometimes, maybe it’s okay to be a hater. I hope he enjoys his backflips.

sorry i’ve been a little MIA recently—uni killed me a little this sem… and i apologise if i offended your sensibilities here! this is just my opinion and i am just the slightest bit melodramatic and ranty.

Funnily enough, a year later my friend and I found ourselves back on the topic of Rachel Zegler. ‘The way they were all talking about her, I thought she’d run over someone’s grandma or something!’ she said. ‘But what she was saying was actually pretty reasonable.’

Turns out all the savagery was people screaming about Zegler saying that ‘it’s no longer 1937… [Snow White] is not going to be saved by the prince, she’s not going be dreaming about true love, she’s dreaming about becoming the leader she knows she can be.’ And while that may be a little bit of liberal (read: surface level) feminism coming through, it was really not that much of a shocking statement at all. If one is going to adapt a classic from 1937 today (Disney’s remakes are a whole other can of worms), you should hope that has been modernised. Otherwise you end up with some weird non-consensual necrophilia. And let’s be honest: Disney isn’t going to make a fully ‘woke’ movie, despite what everyone’s saying—it’s Disney, and they vastly benefit from upholding conservative values whilst dipping in just enough progressiveness to keep ‘the wokes’ happy (god I hate that word). We saw this when Halle Bailey was cast as Ariel in The Little Mermaid—people making any and every excuse under the sun to why she was the wrong choice simply because she’s Black, despite her performance of ‘Part of Your World’ being, to me, one of the best renditions of the song (I was in a production of Little Mermaid and I’ve heard a good lot by now). One of the most absurd things I heard was someone saying ‘she lives under the sea where there’s little sunlight, so she’d be pale!’

There were many whining about how Zegler was so ungrateful to be cast in the role, and how unhappy they were with all the changes to their precious cartoon and how disrespectful she was to the original. Then they went and attacked her for saying that she was part of Shazam! 2 because she ‘needed a job’. I thought it was pretty funny—it’s like when Jacob Elordi said that he finds the Kissing Booth ‘ridiculous’, even though he was more serious about it (because it is I’m sorry). I appreciate some honesty because they’re right; those movies are not great in my opinion at least. Nobody really hated on Robert Pattinson when he expressed his distaste for Twilight (maybe they did? idk). Once again we find ourselves with double standards being applied upon the latest victim—on Zegler likely because she is an outspoken woman of Latina descent. This enraged article on one of Zegler’s Instagram stories says it all—and her post was again, perfectly reasonable. Apparently some of her tweets are ‘insane’ but I couldn’t find any examples, only that she supposedly calls people out for being racist, homophobic and the like, and that she said ‘fuck Donald Trump’ and ‘always remember, free Palestine’. Which is absolutely right! She was forced to apologise for the Trump statement—but she has nothing to be sorry for.

All of these factors just demonstrate how truly sad of a path we’re going down. Any sentence that involves words like ‘pronouns’ or ‘race’ or ‘woman’ is quickly denounced as ‘too woke’. ‘The woke agenda is getting us all!’ they proclaim. The they is rapidly swelling in size, an infection spreading its rotten cells throughout the public. It feels like almost anyone, that person on the train beside you, your neighbour, your work friend could actually be part of this looming monolith. I admire Zegler’s commitment to maintaining her values vocally when so many fight against her very existence. I don’t know if they are what she truly thinks (you never can) but it is good nonetheless when we see so little of that now. During the ‘progressive wave’ it appears that a lot of the celebrities who were vocal about similar issues were just doing it to jump on the bandwagon, and now they’re either silent or loudly displaying their true allegiance.

While of course you can never be certain about a celebrity/public figure’s true personality or beliefs, Rachel Zegler seems to be very sweet and well meaning (and talented of course) or at least undeserving of all the hatred and backlash. I hope that it doesn’t take too much of a toll on her, and that she continues—the early reviews of Snow White say that she’s magnificent. I wish her all the best and that everyone who’s thoughtlessly attacked her just pulls their head out of the screen for a second. There’s a whole world out there where your magic mirror isn’t telling you you’re not the fairest one of all and that a 23 year old woman deserves all your malice.

apologies for all the quotes. there’s quite possibly too many.

This is likely just my personal experience, but I find that the so called deep conversation is not very common, though I suspect I am not the only one who feels this way, the referenced 2014 tweets and tumblr posts saying things the writer notes are like ‘all I want are deep talks in parked cars’ and Hinge profiles describing their proclivity for the ‘introspective’. While these examples could be performative and a bid to get attention for how thoughtful these people are, I can appreciate the sentiment at the risk of sounding just like them. In a society where anti-intellectualism and shallow analyses of situations or media reigns, I see much importance in encouraging critical thinking and healthy debate in our daily lives. I am so grateful and lucky that my closest friends enjoy and are open to anything that falls in the ‘deep talk’ category—if discussing the political and economic state of the world is something that is mocked or looked down upon, then I think we should be at least a little concerned.

But other than my close friends, I often find an avoidance of these topics among many of the people I know, particularly among the younger generation. I hate to be that person, I know—but the apathetic attitude generated by the endless onslaught of online culture and the horrific state of the world (which leads us to drown ourselves in comfort and mind-numbing behaviour) has created a prickly feeling of unease when a tricky topic comes up. While it may not be entirely our fault for feeling disconnected and hopeless in face of the awful circumstances surrounding us, it is through dialogues of learning and understanding that we can give the gravity these subjects deserve. I completely understand the need to disassociate or escape—I do it all the time, but I try my best to ground myself and recognise the significance of things that are deemed ‘uncool’ to discuss: political issues, women’s rights, climate change, body image and the plethora of others. It’s hard to talk about this without sounding like a holier-than-thou preacher, but it is so important to me that we make an effort to not ignore or self-soothe.

The writer of the essay mentioned above details their love for small talk, and all the little moments of life. Like all things, balance is vital. I too adore listening to the seemingly mundane or trivial, silly moments of someone’s day, because a lot of it is just so: the everyday, which is what we ultimately spend most of our time in. Perhaps the balance should lie more in the small talk arena, with a healthy sprinkle of proper thoughtful conversations. Proper as in both sides actually listen, whilst allowing for input of opinions, be they contradictory or not, and then digesting that too. I know that some of these so-called deep conversations can be extremely uneven in this respect, with just one person yammering on with what they think is pure genius while the other sits in silent boredom/agony.

But if we discount all deep talk for being just this kind of ‘bigger, inconsequential intelligence’ then we remove the possibility for empathy for those who extend beyond our own little orbits. I may be stuck in a small, close-minded city (large town, really) but I can visit the emotions of those who live across the world from me, with a much harder life than mine.

We do live in the small moments and in the mundane, but forgetting the bigger ecosystems that our lives nestle amongst is terrifying. We must be able to account for nuance and balance; not all big/small talk is good/bad/black/white. Most of the time, it fits along the greys of the spectrum, just like our days usually do. We shouldn’t let go of either of these kinds of conversations or all the ones in between. Both can teach empathy but in different ways—they each have different scopes, and they each serve a purpose. If we didn’t have any big thinking, we wouldn’t have some of the vital science or beautiful, emotional, political art that we do. If we didn’t have small thinking, we would forget about those directly next to us; we would be living in our own heads, consumed by possibility (which we do a lot of the time).

This essay is maybe a defence of both, and of none at the same time—we need to remember who and where we are, and who we love, and how we can try and make the world a tiny little bit better for them. One conversation at a time.

They had been friends for the longest time. Paul’s first memory was not of his parents, but of the grin of the boy who had come to encompass his whole life. This obligation meant that they had to share everything they owned between them, a complete and fair arrangement that left no divide between them—as it should be.

‘What’s mine is yours,’ Gabriel proclaimed proudly, in a tone that brooked absolutely no argument. ‘My parents always say to never lie, so naturally we should tell all truths and share absolutely everything.’

Paul thought that was a brilliant idea. Gabriel was a few months older, using big words like ‘contradict’; he knew everything there was to know. While it could be argued that Paul still didn’t know much at all, at that stage, he certainly knew close to nothing.

Naturally, he was one of the faithful flock following his wise shepherd, a disciple listening in awe to the preacher. He lay in the reeds, always waiting for him to impart his great wisdom.

‘My parents say sharing is the best way to learn trust in the relationships you wish to pursue.’ Paul already trusted Gabriel with his utmost might, so he wasn’t sure what he was talking about and he didn’t need to know, but he listened anyway. ‘And one more rule: the secrets we entrust to the other cannot reach the ears of any other. Your teddy included, Paul,’ he said with a knowing glance. ‘We will be the most special in each others’ lives. Forever until death.’ He held out his hand to shake, and Paul gripped it eagerly as though it were an altar. He had locked himself into an oath that would bind his life for good. He was glad to have a thing so solid and tangible.

One hazy summer afternoon a good few years later had them draped like bedsheets on the lawn, flies droning around them, swarming for fresh meat. The orchard swayed lazily above them, dripping jewelled fruit from countless branches. It was almost close enough for Paul to grasp if he wanted, but he didn’t want, it was too much effort, so he remained beside Gabriel, sweating in tandem.

‘I’m thirsty. Are you?’ Gabriel prodded Paul in the side, his finger fitting the shape of his rib.

Gabriel would often just say whatever was on his mind and await Paul’s reply, unable to stay silent for little more than a few minutes at a time. It was their custom, Paul scrambling for a reply for questions or thoughts that would catch him off guard. This was not one of those times, thankfully.

He hummed and stretched languidly, upsetting some of the flies that had taken residence on his sweat-encrusted skin. ‘A little.’

‘Come on then.’ Gabriel hopped up, offering a graceful, fine-boned hand that looked like it had been whittled by the Father himself, God’s fingers delicate and caring as he chipped away. Really, it was his piano playing that had shaped the clay, a skill which he never missed a chance to show off. He was not very humble, and his hands were his pride and joy. They let me make all kinds of music, he’d said with a wink. I can make most anything sing. He said it like a threat, a hint Paul couldn’t comprehend glinting in his eye.

Summer after summer rotted away, and as the flies buried themselves and crawled from the wall of the season’s grave so did they age with the trees until they were at the time where one finds themselves on the precipice between youth and manhood; the cusp of responsibility and experience. Paul didn’t like to think about it. Gabriel, however, had recently found his favourite pastime to be reminiscing about the future and fantasising about all his greatest, most secret desires.

‘I don’t care for cigarettes, even though I should,’ he said one morning as they awoke in varying states of disarray, splayed over the couch and carpet. ‘My most dear wish is to flick one in my mum’s face and tell my father, “See the son you raised! Your glorious accomplishment!”’ He sighed dreamily. ‘I suppose I did turn out just like him. It’s not such a bad thing, really.’

‘Why don’t you?’ Paul asked (stupidly). He should have known by now, through years of study and observation of Gabriel’s every mood and tendency, that that sort of question was one of their unspoken rules—their only spoken rule was simply the one about sharing.

He flared up like a burning tiger, claws unsheathing and face searing to crisp at the edges. ‘Because!’ he yelled indignantly. Once he settled down from his huff, he began spouting again. ‘I also wish to win as many rugby cups as possible. That would look good on my shelf, don’t you think?’

Paul did not enjoy rugby nor the side of Gabriel it brought out, but he nodded anyway. He rolled onto his side, looking down upon Paul from his feline sprawl, reigning on the chaise, blinking expectantly. Paul knew well enough now that he was bored, so it was his cue to sacrifice his share of bread. ‘I want to live by the sea with you, and fall asleep to the waves and your endless chatter.’

Gabriel smiled indolently; Paul knew he had succeeded. ‘That sounds lovely. But as long as I get a shelf for my trophies.’

‘I’ll build it myself,’ Paul told him. ‘It’ll be the biggest one.’

‘And I’ll only go once I’ve wrung every last game from my body.’

‘I will wait there for you.’

Gabriel’s smile was as radiant and holy as a beam of sunlight—millions of miles away yet feeling so close that it warms your skin with its incandescent, gossamer touch. Paul revered and worshipped these moments, always making sure he’d find a way to make it happen again.

Paul was certain that Gabriel knew it all. His words were no less potent than if they’d been uttered from the Father’s mouth himself. Yet, despite this definite fact, he gave no warning of the turn the nature of that particular summer would take. There didn’t seem to be any significant change; either in Gabriel or their surroundings. He was still outspoken and fantastical, and their places of haunting were frozen, preserved memories from the very first time they’d found them. Each blade of grass intact, each notch in the tree they perched in, each scuff on the stone fountain kissed by strangers long past.

Maybe he should have finally heeded the ever-present, reticent roar of the insects; looking back, perhaps they had tried to convey to him the dire fate he would wade himself into from the very beginning. The true message straight from the lips of God, borne on thousands of clicking wings like eyes rather than the capable hands of the neglectful proclaimer, who was instead smiling lazily through slitted eyes.

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The warning signs of the conservatism seem so clear in retrospect, as they always do. It is only after the occurrence of tragedy that we can look back and say, ah yes, how didn’t we see that? The immense popularity of aesthetics like cottagecore and the clean girl, who rely on white supremacy and the romanticisation of systems of patriarchy and capitalism. The veneer of progressiveness in companies that celebrate pride month by changing their profile picture to rainbow, whilst doing little to nothing to actually help make meaningful change. The glamourisation of the Y2K body and old Victoria’s Secret fashion shows. It goes further than that too, but these are some of the more recent things that I can think of.

In the past year or so tradwives really exploded into the zeitgeist, as I’m sure you all know. Ballerina Farm, Nara Smith, that lady who preaches always being dolled up for your husband to come home to? I don’t know anymore. There is one common thread linking them all (or at least the majority)—most of them are devout Mormons. This religion has particularly strict rules for women, focusing on family ideals straight out of the nuclear family, white picket fence playbook. I am not an expert on this religion, but I do know the restrictions on the women who are part of the Church of Latter Day Saints are regressive.

The religion of the tradwives informs the way they live their lives and what they present for the audience to consume, which can sometimes slip the mind. And in the age of anti-intellectualism and lack of media literacy, it can be forgone altogether. This undercurrent of traditionalism simmers, slippery as a snake, sneaking into the mind of the viewer and encouraging them, quiet whisper by quiet whisper, to take a bite of the apple. While Nara Smith could easily be dismissed as harmless for her extravagant cooking in haute couture, she undeniably has a role to play in shaping reception to the Trump administration. In a way, she and her ilk have helped pave the way for the swing back to conservatism. Am I overstating her influence? Maybe. But we can’t excuse the individual content creator or that one acquaintance who spreads their sinister message so that its tendrils hook onto your thoughts and you begin your slow descent. This isn’t limited to tradwives—it’s everywhere.

Of course, this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t hate the game. We absolutely should hate the game. These people are partly a product of the environment and systems that they are knitted into, but it’s easy to forget about the bigger picture and just get mad (or support) someone who perpetuates the views and standards of the toxic status quo. The systems at large are the reason why conservatism and the platitudes of powerful people like Trump have such a stranglehold on our society—they are the system. But again, a house cannot stand up without all the individual bricks making up the walls, even if their foundations are solid. So it’s important to keep in mind both the pebble and the road when observing anything—be it content/media, the news, even sometimes (unfortunately) conversations with those we know.

Maybe we shouldn’t hate, per say, the player (though I will steadfastly hate the game). I don’t have an exact answer for what we should do, but hate is such a strong word. We need as many people on the left as possible, and spewing hatred at them will certainly drive them away. While we can definitely disagree with them, perhaps we can try to do it in a way that encourages them to consider a different point of view. It’s not so simple as that, I know. But even small changes in ourselves are still changes. We too make up the road. Though it’s naïve of me to think, at least then we can try and turn the tide of culture to a place where women don’t dream of becoming a tradwife, blissfully ignorant of all the horrible things that lurk beneath the surface of this idyll.

Moving away from the phone and/or laptop (etc) in everyday life is getting more tricky as they become more and more embedded in our daily lives. We live in an age of convenience, where it feels like nearly everything we do requires access to electronics. Instead of hanging out with friends, we could just stalk Instagram or Pinterest until it feels like the people on the screen are breathing (although it’s just in my mind, where they hiss insults at me). For entertainment, we may watch an endless stream of content on your chosen platform, be it Netflix or Tiktok or Youtube. This is not to disparage the advantages of these activities (as I love winding down with a good Youtube video essay or vlog) but they are, like most things, best in moderation. That said, here are some of the steps I’d like to implement to live in the present/in the real world which I’m ironically writing online. Don’t take it too seriously or strictly!

dani’s guide to going analogue

1. replace screen time with reading

   You can substitute reading for other hobbies that don’t require electronic devices, like sports, writing, art and the like. It’s best to get some variety in there.

2. move more

   I tend to sit in one spot during my free time, which is obviously not very healthy! I’d like to swap up where I read etc, like in my backyard or the park nearby. Going for walks and working out more in general is also one of my resolutions.

3. send real letters!

   Though texting my friends is quick and easy, it removes the whimsy (🤪) of communicating when you’re not together. Writing letters is such a beautiful and personal way of talking through handwriting, and it really makes your day!! The act of putting together a letter is so wonderful too; you can have a whole routine with candles and even a wax stamp (I bought a great one especially for the purpose of writing to my loved ones). We should also bring back phone calls more—I’m personally terrified of them for some reason (though I’m cool with FaceTime???) but I’d like to call my friends out of the blue more (hopefully they’re not in the middle of something important; I’ve had some very untimely calls that can make you the unwanted centre of attention…).

4. journalling and meditating

   Yes, yes, I can hear you groaning through the screen. I’m getting back into my routine of a bit of gratitude journalling, which genuinely helps me get some perspective and prepare for the day ahead. Jotting down random thoughts (doesn’t have to be consistent, but often is good) is a great way to process things and calm the mind a little, whilst connecting with your emotions. Meditating, meanwhile, gives you a chance to pause and truly be present—important if you’re looking to live your life, rather than watch yourself go through the motions.

5. go out with friends more

   I need to see my friends regularly to keep me sane—ideally it would be every couple of days but sadly we all have other commitments. Alas! When you don’t have school to keep your schedules similar it gets hard. Sometimes just talking to a friend takes you out of your jumble of thoughts and makes things a little lighter, so I would recommend this remedy for all. Even if you’re a homebody like me.

6. go to bed and rise earlier

   My sleep schedule is awful and it needs to be fixed so I’m not exhausted all day every day. That’s it. (Also it gives you more time to do what you want at a relaxed pace.)

7. walk and ride a bike as transport

   I understand this doesn’t work for everyone—but if you live near your work, school/uni and other destinations you frequent, it’s a great way to move your body, get outside and use less petrol. Car rides with friends are god though.

8. using paper

   I’m trying my hardest to use up all of my empty notebooks—also, you can’t beat the feeling of writing on paper. Especially if you have a banging pen (MUJI 0.38 supremacy). The epitomy of analogue!

9. doing more activities with friends and family

   I don’t play board games enough, even though they’re so darn fun! I suck at chess because I play like twice a year, but I’d love to improve. I’d also like to play card games more (maybe learn some poker?), and you can never go wrong with Scrabble.

10. reading the newspaper/listening to the radio for news

    A slightly less depressing or stressful way of keeping up to date with the goings on in the world. Not always perfect—I swear some online news outlets and magazines are brilliant.

11. using digital cameras for photos!

    Bring back the silliness.

And now, as requested by my lovely friend Lili, I’ve comprised a list (in no particular order) of my picks from small businesses. I don’t own all of these, but I do have the majority. Not sponsored in any way!

astala luna patchwork blanket

So cozy and gorgeous! It adds the cutest splash of colour and texture to my bed.

angele collective earrings

Unique and details wrought beautifully. Gotten a lot of compliments on these!

wax stamp

The one I mentioned above—it looks stunning on the letter envelopes. My wax is a dark red.

sage vintage charm necklace

My god I wish I could afford this.

elegant flair keychain

So very dainty—will be saving up for this to add to my bag!

elegant flair paperclip necklace!!!!!!

This design has me yearning I can’t!!!

last necklace i swear

The pink colour is so pretty, another little dimension on my outfit.

annuziata rosy posy top

While I don’t think I could wear this, the details and design are sooo pleasing to the eye.

knitwit beau top

Very excited to wear this when it arrives, the design is lovely and versatile.

selór rose barrette

I need some hair accessories and this is everything I want for a barrette. The colour!!

That’s all I have for today—thank you for reading this different post! Let me know your thoughts. Love you all xxx

I can’t help but feel so, so angry at the girls who post modern day thinspo on the internet. On Instagram, Tiktok, Pinterest and every other platform under the sun you can find extremely unhealthy body ideals championed with abandon and with thousands of others praising them in the comments. There seems to be little to no regulation on this type of toxic content—for example, a Tiktoker by the name of Liv Schmidt, who promotes being skinny as ‘an accessory’ to her outfits. Her 650,000 follower account was banned from the platform for breaking community guidelines (aka giving her rules for being skinny) but she quickly returned and is still thriving more than ever. Her content would have been (rightfully!!!!) shamed or disapproved of during the body positivity movement—which had its own problems, of course (but looks so so much better right now)—but now this attitude is rampant through the minds of young women and spreading like a plague on the internet.

I see this body everywhere. In the artists and actors I admire, in the black void of the internet, in the people around me in public, in the ads that are shoved involuntarily in my face. It’s now funny to call people fat and ‘motivational’ to call yourself a ‘pig’ so that you can lose weight. Body shaming and ED culture is back. Some of those who previously encouraged body positivity content have quickly shut up as soon as it’s not profitable. Models for Victoria’s Secret and the like have talked about how dangerous their routines were, and the pressures on them to maintain their size or shrink even more.

With the conservative swing in the cultural pendulum comes the revival of 90s and early 2000s beauty standards. Low rise jeans are in fashion, edits of ‘skinny legends’ go viral. Of course these ideals never went away, even with the trend’s apparent opposite, the BBL/curvy body, being uplifted on a pedestal. It is just acceptable to laud it openly now. The thin ideal hid in the skin of ‘what i eat in a day’, ‘wellness’ and ‘when i’m a size 0 but size 8 girl can eat whatever she wants (she’s the real winner)’ content (I absolutely despise ‘she’s the real winner’. Talk about a back-handed compliment). Thinness has always been the paragon of virtue, beauty and health. But the BBL body, while vastly different to heroin chic, still idolised tiny ‘snatched’ waists, and being too thick was also not acceptable.

Both trends require extreme diets and exercise (unless of course you naturally fit the particular standard), and today there are a variety of different procedures, lifestyles or drugs one can take to almost instantly transform. These are usually restricted for the upper class, and the pendulum usually shifts once one becomes too accessible to the general public. For example, being thin usually requires the luxury of time to regulate one’s diet and body, which is often difficult for those whose lives are considerably more busy than that of a celebrity. And today, Ozempic costs thousands of dollars a month, and the privilege of buying it without needing to use it for its original use (treating type 2 diabetes) caused a dangerous shortage for those who needed it to regulate blood sugar levels. On the other hand, BBLs were popularised by the polarising Kardashians, who underwent surgery that costed a king’s ransom. The trend died out once plastic surgery became more affordable to the masses, and now we’re back to thinness in this vicious little cycle.

With the people who perpetuate these horrible ideals and foist them onto their audiences (and the general public too—I do not like or support these women and yet I am still subject to what they market as beauty), I know they too are victims of these cruel beauty standards and that they too are suffering, but I can’t help but feel like they should know better. Know better than to encourage what I’m sure they know (or at least subconsciously feel) is dangerously unhealthy. They are adults and they should have the basic empathy to understand the pressures they exert on young women. Yes they are victims but that doesn’t necessarily lift the burden of how they spread this negative sentiment to countless others who can feel the pull of herd mentality and pressure to conform. The benefits are significant, after all. These creators forget that young women can die from starvation, trying to achieve the perfect body. They forget that losing an extreme amount of weight has side effects like losing hair, feeling tired and weak, becoming sick more easily. They are happy to continue abusing their body under the guise of beauty and health while the world crashes and burns around them.

The real ones to blame are the misogynistic systems of patriarchy, capitalism, racism and ableism we live under, which seek to shove women in an itty bitty box so we can remain complacent. It’s extremely complex, and it’s worthwhile noting that the women who perpetuate thinness are products of these systems too. Nothing exists in a vacuum. Perhaps Liv Schmidt thinks she’s truly helping her fans. But it still doesn’t excuse her.

We are not tools of diet culture. Or at least, we must try to make sure that we won’t be, by recognising even the most subtle toxic behaviours—repackaged ED mentality as wellness trends. The pendulum will eventually move back to something akin to body positivity, and some celebrities will go straight back to curvy, get money, and leave it in the dust once it isn’t trendy anymore. Can’t we find a middle ground instead of extremes? Instead of idolising a certain look, why can’t we truly accept ourselves and others for how they are? Can’t we just exist peacefully? Wishful thinking, I know. But maybe we should take a page out of Jemima Kirke’s book and just stop thinking about ourselves so much.