Weeknotes 59 - Trash chic
- I ordered a few work-related books from Amazon in the last couple of weeks. The covers have the same weird soft but grippy feel. The print quality is a bit odd, as if printed from a raster image. It’s especially noticeable on small text. Those books are all printed by Amazon as it turns out, not by the original publishers. Although the content is all there I can’t help but feel a bit cheated.
- I got an email from someone inviting me to participate in a women’s leadership in design event. I explained that since I’m transmasculine it wouldn’t be appropriate, and suggested someone else who would be a great fit. So far I received no reply. A simple “apologies for making the assumption, and thanks for the suggestion” would have been welcome.
- A while back I went to a well-known London shirtmaker who declined to serve me because the tailor “didn’t have the tools to take the measurement” of my body. It’s a miracle how I manage to sew clothes at home without any specialist equipment apart from the sewing machine.
- A friend of mine is staying with me this weekend. We’ve known each other for about twenty years. He’s witnessed my emo phase and all the questionable fashion choices I made in high school. He somehow chose to remain a friend. I’m very lucky.
- My current weekend wardrobe earned the description trash chic. I’m choosing to lean into it.
- Have you ever wondered what it would be like to eat a forgettable but overpriced and pretentious meal in a funeral-like atmosphere? I recommend La Chapelle in Spitalfields.
- My Brexit stash of tins of beans and toilet paper has had a rebrand. It’s now the corona virus emergency stash.