Earlier this year, there was an ad for a computer technology company doing the rounds on the Internet. An influencer sat at her desk with clean hair and a made-up face, declaring that it has never been more important to have a personal style. During a time of global uncertainty and economic precarity, it wasn’t our relationships, jobs, or access to a home that mattered most. It was what the physical possessions we owned said about us. At the time, it felt tone deaf but over the past few months I have grown to see it differently. As florists report an influx of people buying flowers and interior stores claim to be busier than ever, it seems that when the world falls apart, those in a particular stratum of privilege redecorate.
I have been thinking about style because I watched On The Rocks this week. It is Sophia Coppola’s new film starring Rashida Jones and Bill Murray. Jones plays an exhausted mother and uninspired novelist, Laura, who believes her husband may be cheating on her. Murray plays her art-dealer dad, Felix, who projects his own philandering and outdated advice onto Laura as the pair investigate whether her marriage is ending. It is not the plot that has had me thinking about style, but everything Laura owns. From her SoHo apartment to her office chairs to the way she pairs a vintage Chanel Flap Bag with a $30 Strand Bookstore tote. It feels like a dutiful form of escapism to watch Laura move through the world, and delusional to think any form of her style - aside from the odd vintage t-shirt - is possible. As a Slate article stated, “If you want to live that On The Rocks lifestyle, it’ll cost you just a few dozen million.” Yet I take notes and dream on.
Susan Sontag once wrote that a style is a means of insisting on something. In her latest collection of essays, Intimations, Zadie Smith writes that she repeats this line to her creative writing class at New York University every semester. While the line regards literary aesthetics, each year its meaning extends and deepens in Smith’s mind. It covers everything from interior choices to iPhone covers to people. In fact, Smith often thinks about a young man who works in the IT department called Cy. Cy has an “inimitable energy” and “unpredictable afro” and sometimes rides a hoverboard. “His vibe, his energy, his aura - whatever word is usually attached to the affect of a human being - appeared to me to be a means of insisting on something, a way of moving through the world, that was uniquely Cy’s, Cy’s absolutely,” she wrote. Smith postulates why style is so important to the young, and concludes that while it may be completely useless in protecting us against catastrophe, it has another purpose. “Long before this crisis [the young] were living with little hope of institutional or structural support, contending with perilous futures, untenable debt, fear,” she wrote. “When, in the classroom, they insist on their personal styles, in a manner all too easy to find obnoxious - and causing the predictable generational friction - I have to remind myself to remember this: their style is all they have. They are insisting on their existence in a vacuum.”
It reminds me of something the comedian Dave Chappelle recently said in an interview with David Letterman. Speaking of local politics and the importance of community, Chappelle said, “you can’t change the world but you can make a corner of it pretty nice.” In an unpredictable time, we seek to control what we can. When we cannot look beyond a few months, we look to what is directly in front of us. While our style may be entirely useless in the context of the global uncertainty we face, for those lucky enough to have the time and means to think about it, it feels good to rearrange a small part of our lives. To insist on something. The part of us that craves to redecorate our home or curate our wardrobe or buy a bunch of flowers is not separate from the part of us that craves for a more secure, equitable world. While we push for it and hope for it, it feels good to move through it in a way that is ours, ours absolutely. For no reason other than the fact it keeps us going.
Some related (and unrelated) recommendations:
Obviously, On The Rocks. Bill Murray plays his loveable and charming self. Rashida Jones is incredible. Possibly my favourite film of the year. On Apple+.
Intimations by Zadie Smith which is a short collection of essays written during lockdown.
Emily Ratajkowski wrote an essay for Vogue on her pregnancy and why she doesn't want to know the gender of her first child.
This excerpt from Barack Obama's upcoming memoir, which is up on The New Yorker.
Every profile from The New York Times Style Magazine's 'The Greats' issue. In particular, the profile of Angela Davis.
Ahead of the US election, Rebecca Traister's analysis of the last four years, up on The Cut.
I've been listening to Steve Lacy all week.
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