Heartfelt Recommendations for Extremely Specific Situations
Maybe you'll relate
Everything feels hard. These places/products/ideas make my life the tiniest bit better. Hopefully they’ll help you too.
Depression. When you want to feel one percent less depressed, you identify all of your ~emotions~ on the feelings wheel, then do one low-effort thing that you’ve been avoiding, and then reward yourself with mindless QVC watching.
Nostalgia. When you don’t miss a single thing about growing up in Wisconsin, except maybe the slowness of it all, but then you saw your childhood home is for sale and considered — for a second, maybe two — buying it so a new owner wouldn’t drywall over your memories, you wear this cow print belt and a Packers sweatshirt, not unlike one you had in third grade. Go Pack go.
Delight. When you need a dose of art that feels bigger and older than you, you visit Rijksmuseum’s website. (Or, if you’re in Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum itself, of course.) You can view their entire collection online. I especially love their Art Explorer feature that asks you a simple question, then delivers all of their artwork that corresponds to your answer. All of the images above and below are results I received.
Scrub. When you need to scrub away winter or that awful date or the thought you told yourself you weren’t going to have again, scour your legs with Soft Services Buffing Bar. It helps, I swear.
Flowers. When you live in Los Angeles, where you’re lucky to see greenery every day no matter the month, you get a membership to the Huntington Gardens and remind yourself what it was like to suffocate under gray clouds most of the year. Take a deep breath and thank the roses.
Slippers. When you’re trying to convince your boyfriend to stop wearing shoes in the house because microscopic dog poop surely lives on all of our shoe soles, you get him Cozy Earth slippers and a pair for yourself too.
Laser treatment. When you need to repent for a few decades of not wearing sunscreen, getting sunburned at Harold and Nancy’s pool next door, you get the Sciton BBL and Halo laser treatments at Kian Aesthetic Institute, then walk through Brentwood with a jelly mask on your tomato face because if anyone knows about laser aftercare it’s the rich ladies. The only people you see on the streets, though, are nannies and landscapers.
Pepper. When you don’t know what to gift a partner or a father figure or anyone else who likes massive cuts of steak, may I present to you the Pepper Cannon. They’ll call their guy friends to tell them about it.
Spray tan. When you want to instantly feel hotter, get a spray tan at Sugared + Bronzed. The five minutes of awkwardness, standing naked in front of a stranger as she paints you with a concoction of beets and water while sweetly making small talk, is worth it to feel like a bronzed beach goddess.
Jewelry. When you skipped the girlhood trend of 2023 because it felt infantilizing, but you think bows are appropriate at any age you get these Kara Yoo pearl earrings.
Stop caring. When you get overwhelmed, remember: the only two people you need to impress are 5-year-old you and 85-year-old you. That’s it.
Water. When you’ve quietly gone sober, other than a sip sometimes, because of 100 reasons you don’t need to explain to anyone, you learn to make water fun. Add bubbles, electrolytes, tea, whatever, and put it in a cute bottle.
Art. When your wall is missing a little je ne sais quoi, browse Sonic Editions. I have this saucy Slim Aarons and this Bruce Springsteen portrait by Terry O’Neill; they’ll be in my art collection until I croak, then passed down to my goddaughter who, when she was a toddler, would request to listen to the Born in the USA record — she called it “Bruce’s butt” — when she’d wake up from naps sweaty and crabby.
Depression, part II. When you get in your feelings about how hard life is, you consider the kids from the school for blind children down the block, who are often out for one-on-one walks with a teacher, navigating the bumpy sidewalks that trees burst through. You’re fine.
Heaven. When you want to question everything about your life, you go to Blue Apple Resort in Cartagena, which is solar powered, zero waste, and doing actual world-changing initiatives at a luxury resort. Staying there is the good life that you don’t have to feel gross about, and I’ll write more about it soon. Until then, I’ll meet you by the pool.
Nostalgia, part II. When you feel sentimental for 2012 — Obama, cheap concerts, cheaper happy hours, when the internet was full of sloppy essays you related to — you swipe on MAC’s Lady Danger, listen to Grizzly Bear, then remember crying on the floor after your boyfriend slept with that woman in Portland and sigh in relief that it’s not 2012 anymore.
Therapy, but not. When you miss your therapist, who you can’t see anymore because American healthcare is backwards, and mourn that she guided you through the worst of times but didn’t get to see the payoff years later, you do nothing but hope she’s doing well.
Nail polish. When you refuse to spend $100 on a manicure ever again, you commit to doing your own nails with Dazzle Dry. I will be rolled into the crematorium wearing Red Hot Chili.
Bed. When bed is a sacred place, you top it with Coop pillows, a striped bedding set from Brooklinen that hides your pug’s shedding, and a wool blanket at the foot of the bed that you should really switch out for the summer.
Filters. When you’re scared of everything giving you cancer, probably because everything will give you cancer, you filter what you can: water, air, the mean thing you almost said.
Luggage. When you want to feel the tiniest bit better than your fellow travelers, perhaps out of spite from losing your Delta status, you fly with the July Carry On. It won’t get lost in a lazy river of other bags barfed up the baggage carousel, unless you get the black one, so don’t do that.
Stretch. When suddenly any activity — a Beyoncé concert, a mundane swing through Home Depot — hurts your lower back, you hang in a forward fold, then lament to anyone or possibly just yourself about how this is only going to get worse. Don’t forget to stretch every day.
I adore you