Easter took an unexpected turn when Anna Wintour posted a picture on Instagram in which she is wearing sweatpants while working from home. I should probably just leave it right here and let you collectively recompose yourselves offline, because it’s the end of the world as we know it.
Continue reading “Lockdown Literature And Lounging Tips”
The universal closure of bars and restaurants has resulted in a noticeable absence of pictures of alcoholic drinks assembled on a bar table/airport lounge, as well as the ubiquitous latte art pictures on social media. It also reminded me of something: I have not had coffee since the lockdown started as I do not own a machine (I strategised early on in life that if I never learn to make coffee, I’ll never be asked to make some at work/other situations. So I cannot brew a cup, and have no intention to learn anymore).
Continue reading “Non-Essentials Appreciation Post”
The good news: Ruth Bader Ginsburg is still alive. The bad news: Marianne Faithfull is hospitalised because of Covid-19. May she get well soon. In the meanwhile, let us concentrate on staying sane on board the train wreck.
Continue reading “How To Stay Sane (And Save Humanity)”
Ok, how many TS Eliot “The Wasteland” -quotes have you already seen in the last about 36 hours? Because I am out of original ideas at this point, this is likely the millionth blogpost with this exact title. In my defence, though, this year April really seems to be taking the piss. But don’t despair! Read on!
Continue reading “April Is The Cruelest Month”
It’s the 8000th of March today so I decided to spruce up the corner where I spend most of my day writing browsing the Internet. I placed the currently on rotation home scents on a cake stand for no particular reason, as well as set a framed photograph of my boyfriend Brad* next to it. This took me about three minutes, so I’m back staring at my neighbours exercise on their balcony across the courtyard. How’s your lockdown working for you?
I was doing my government-approved daily sortie the other day and swung by a newspaper stand (still allowed to keep open). “Chic Easter eggs” exclaimed a title on the cover of an obviously pre-Corona glossy, proffering, as it appeared, a recipe to turn adequate but regular eggs into something chic to adorn one’s Easter feast. It was a hysterical reminder of how quickly perfectly normal things had started to seem almost comically tone-deaf within the lifespan of a monthly fashion magazine.
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Kassandra Komplex 