may memo
acquaintances, hugo spritzes, "Party Rock Anthem", Magcon meet & greets, the declaration of Weezer Summer, the propaganda i have fallen for
Faithful readers, loyal fans, West Village girls, nepo babies, and everyone in between: May has come and is soon to pass. This month has gone by in a blur, with many bright spots and moments of lucidity. Overall, it’s been a month of uncomfortable growth that has left me feeling full and depleted all at once.
I’m starting to wrap my head around quote-unquote socializing at work. Who can relate? No, but in all seriousness, I think this is a largely under-discussed topic for professionals in their mid-twenties. I remember vividly that when my high school years were coming to a close and college was on the horizon, people had a wide range of expectations for what they wanted their future roommate to be to them. In many an admitted students Facebook group, it was mandated that you had to post a contrived bio of yourself so that fellow admits could decide arbitrarily if your underdeveloped lifestyles at 18-years-old matched enough to live together for a calendar year. “I work hard and play hard. I like to chill at home and watch Netflix… but I also like going out. In my free time, I go to the gym. I like hanging out with friends on the weekends.” You are soooo unique. Where I went to college – Franklin & Marshall College in Lancaster, PA – random roommates were assigned. I barely spoke to mine for a year and we lived fairly harmoniously. It is difficult to forge friendships at the beginning of college, so I don’t necessarily blame those who chose their roommates with the intention of becoming besties. But I think it’s generally incredibly rare to find one that you mesh well with and the guesswork involved to pick one you think you’d mesh well with feels a bit slimy. I just think it sets a person up for disappointment, the projecting onto another person your hopes and dreams for the next 4 years. This tangent is related, I promise.
I think that after college – in your first few years unshackled from the school system –there are very few institutions in adulthood that allow one to forge new friendships. There are house parties – where you meet friends of friends, friends of friends of friends, and potential romantic prospects – and there are run clubs, if you’re insufferable. And for most young adults, there’s the workplace.
I think people in their mid-twenties generally get mixed up about what the workplace is. For people who start a new role along with a cohort of peers, it’s a prime built-in opportunity to make new friends. But your hours on the clock are not fodder for a workplace comedy. When I’m at work, I’m there to work. When I’m done with work, I clock out. And I recognize there’s privilege in that clocking out. I’m able to clock out mentally once I’m clocked out physically. In college, friends of mine often joked about the fact that I could not be distracted when I was in the zone at our beloved café or at a cubicle in our on-campus library. At my first job, I often sneered at in-office 3 PM happy hours.
Now, I am confronting what it’s like to have my very core beliefs waver. I genuinely enjoy chatting with the people I work with about my life outside of work and about the last concert each of us went to. I like trading music recommendations with them and hearing them gush the same way I do in every newsletter you receive in your inbox. I like being proven wrong (though it’s not often, don’t get it twisted!) and I’m enjoying this particular instance. I have no grand expectations regarding what this means. In my schooling years, I valued what I called “class friends” – people you’d bond with because you were in the same class, because of the shared experience, because we could commiserate about the course load or a funny thing the professor had said that day. I am famously a huge proponent of acquaintanceship. Acquaintances are people you assign zero expectations to, so there’s always untapped potential and if that potential is never tapped, there’s nothing wrong with that. Holding and keeping a close inner circle and also having surface-level friends or acquaintances is an ideal set-up for me. So, here I am, making acquaintances again. It feels really good.
R.F.S.T.F. (Rapid Fire Summer Trend Forecast):
Sincerity in film is so back. I recently watched the trailer for Celine Song’s upcoming A24 rom-com Materialists, starring Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, and Pedro Pascal. It has everything: a ‘90s voiceover narration (à la The Holiday), mid-budget cinematography, a love triangle that will make you say “these people are way too conventionally attractive to be this distraught over each other; they must have so many options”. I watched Jerry Maguire and The Big Sick this month for the first time, so I am feeling particularly soft and ready to be swept away in unrealistic optimism. Song’s last film Past Lives shattered my heart, so I’m enthused about this lighter offering that might help put it back together.
It’s a Weezer summer. That’s right, folks. Maxine and her dad have declared it so and I am observing it. You should all follow suit. I don’t just mean “Beverly Hills” or “Island in the Sun” – Weezer for amateurs – I mean these beacons of nerd rock excellence:
Hugo Spritzes are the bev of the season. Really anything with elderflower liqueur and a squeeze of lemon. It’s an exciting development for me, as a person who famously recoils at the taste of many cocktails. At the end of the day, mixed drinks are a means to an end. But I have loved sipping on these on May’s nicer days. They’re refreshing, light, and summery. You want to talk about propaganda I don’t buy into? Aperol spritzes. There’s no way all of you enjoy the taste of Aperol that much.
R.F.S.O. (Rapid Fire Summer “Outs”)
Jack Schlossberg. It happened – I got the ick from Jack Schlossberg – and I lived to tell the tale. I am happy to address this in more depth to inquiring minds. But for now, I’ll say that there was a long period in which I was charmed by his out-of-tune singing vids, his if-you-know-you-know jokes about his family, and his hackneyed approach to Modern Male Quirkiness. His recitations of Pitbull verses and libby hot takes used to appeal to me, but they now – officially – ick me out. His performative boycott of the Met Gala wasn’t even the start of it; it just cemented it for me.
RSVP Gray Area. It’s “yes”, it’s “no”, or it’s “I will follow up with additional details when I figure it out or here’s a different date and time we can perhaps get together to make it up to you”. There is far too much wiggle room with “maybe” these days and people are getting way too comfortable using wishy-washy RSVP cop-outs such as “I could be down”, “I might…”, “maybe”, “perhaps” without additional follow-up, and anything in that gray area. When I receive these responses, I will consider my social calendar cleared and will make alternative plans accordingly. #SayNoToMaybe #EnoughIsEnough
Whatever this rancid vibe is:
I will always resent the notion that there’s simply no good, new music and it’s time to throw in the towel. Any time someone voices their longing for the past in regards to music, I understand it to an extent. But this IG story from Finneas gives me the same energy as that one crotchety guy you know who exclusively listens to classic rock and refuses to broaden his horizons. The particular New Music Friday in question was the one on which Morgan Wallen released his snore-fest collab with Tate McRae. So while I see how that one may have cast a dark shadow over the entire day, I can also say that there’s so much to be excited about in music right now and if you’re not excited, you’re not doing enough purposeful discovery. I’m currently anxious, nearly biting my nails waiting for the official Spotify release of up-and-coming TikTok phenom Eli’s “Marianne” (out May 30th) – which I’ve listened to on loop on Soundcloud for the time being. You can find her at @journalofadoll on TikTok. Blondshell put out a near-perfect alt rock album on April 30th. Jensen McRae is singing and writing circles around our current lot of singer-songwriter girlies, especially on her new-yet-timeless country ballad “Savannah”. Not to mention that Finneas is terribly out of his league saying “shame on you”. As if his solo work rises to the top at all. And I say that as someone who actually likes a few songs off his most recent album. A bad look for Billie’s brother, who I have held a fill of respect for as a producer.
Propaganda I Will Fall For Every Time:
“Add avocado for an upcharge”. It is one of my biggest flaws and yet I stand by it. There is just something about a little avo that brightens up a salad or bowl or sandwich. Ever since Chipotle made guac a $3 upcharge, nothing has been right. And I mean nothing.
TikToks of grown men watching Disney Channel original movies for the first time or reacting positively to girly music. This might be the best example of actual propaganda on this list and I am very guilty of buying into it every time. Hand over heart, I am not proud of this and I know that it is meant to pander most of the time. And yet!
Communal moments. I don’t so much care what it is, but I love a time when The People come together to experience and celebrate together. When the solar eclipse happened in April of last year, I was less impressed by the moon and more heartened by viral shots I saw of people gathering together to watch it. I don’t watch basketball at all, but the people of New York are excited about the Knicks right now and that’s all it takes for me to see what all the fuss is about. The last 10 minutes of Game 3 were unfortunately exhilarating.
Addison Rae. I will not tolerate slander.
Disco ball in the bar. I will be pulling out my phone to take a pic of it and that is just the cold, hard, sad truth.
Sunny and 75 in New York. These days feel like actual propaganda because the minute the weather changes from this ideal temp to rainy and cold, I hate New York.
Propaganda I Will Not Fall For:
Jacob Elordi. Too conventionally attractive to be attractive. It boomerangs back around. He also seems very mean, which is an unsubstantiated presumption.
“But he made Graduation”. An embarrassing amount of you still follow Kanye on socials. It’s been over.
Colloquial quirkified therapy-speak about “character development”. Some struggles we face in this life certainly build our character. But not every single hard thing we are put through builds us up. Sometimes, it simply breaks us down. Sometimes, we are not thankful for our afflictions. Sometimes, it’s not eye-roll and tongue-out emoji.
Gracie Abrams. This ground has been covered ad nauseam already on SLEEPER HIT. Inquire for further explanation.
Cottage cheese. So, you all just hate yourselves.
Parke sweatshirts. The loose mock-neck necklines are insanely ugly.
“Be kind” as a personality trait. Know that I am suspicious if your personality IRL and online is rooted in a need to constantly share reminders to “be kind”. The more you talk about always being unconditionally kind, the less I believe you are actually kind. This is the exact reasoning I have behind not believing the actual propaganda flowing out of the Justin Baldoni camp. For years, he has profited off of propping himself up as a male feminist instead of moving in silence and letting his work speak for itself. If it insists upon itself, it is usually not actually what it wants to be. This is the general rule of thumb.
Social media cleanse/offline living. Good for you. Could not be me.
Notes App Selection:
On this same consequential trip to Other People’s Clothes, I also found my most prized possession (that I did not purchase and therefore do not own but think of often fondly): a 2011 rue21 zebra-print tank with “Party Rock” scrawled over its chest in hot pink script.
I am not sure any of you understand the weight and gravity of this thrift find. I felt that it behooved me to try it on to honor it. I even debated buying it to frame in a shadowbox like an archaeological artifact in a museum case. But alas, it is now only memorialized in my camera roll. I share it with you now, faithful readers. May it bring you an LMFAO summer.
Recent Hyperfixations:
Yankees fans being petty when ex-Yankee/new Met Juan Soto was up to bat during the Subway Series. I’m no sports girl, but I am a fan of any petty behavior. Yankees fans booed, jeered, heckled, and turned around so that their backs were facing the field when it was Soto’s turn to take a swing. I laughed and TikTok was, of course, listening – since I got a Soto edit set to Charli xcx and Lorde’s “Girl, so confusing” served to me on my FYP after I liked a singular Tweet about it.
The burgeoning froyo revival. I am seeing more and more of a groundswell of excitement around frozen yogurt lately. *whispers* Recession indicator. Anyway, in 2012-2016, self-serve froyo shops were on every block and I lived for it in a non-toxic-diet-culture way.
“All Night” by Beyoncé. This song is the penultimate track on Beyoncé’s Lemonade and serves as the emotional culmination of every sadness and bit of fury expressed prior about her husband Jay-Z’s infidelity. A healed Bey sings of giving herself time to trust her husband again, but the implication is that she intends to get there because she loves him. She is a far better woman than me! Regardless of your opinion on their marriage, this song has been the perfect end-of-spring, roll-your-windows-down anthem. Beyoncé’s vocals soar over a staccato horn line set at the perfect level in the mix.
Season 1 of HBO Max’s The Other Two. A truly pitch-perfect satire that combines the sarcasm of Schitt’s Creek with the off-the-wall absurdity of The Lonely Island’s Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping. Wanda Sykes is excellent and Drew Tarver plays its pitiful protagonist Cary Dubek in the same perfectly lame spirit as Lena Dunham’s Hannah Horvath. MattyBRaps should be honored that there was an entire HBO Max show essentially created in his image.
Magcon Meet & Greet Tok. The latest micro-fad on TikTok I’ve taken note of is women of my generation sharing videos of their meet-and-greets with members of Magcon. In these videos, the young heartthrobs of Magcon embrace their underage fans and kiss their cheeks, do prom poses with them, console them while they’re sobbing… the list goes on. But the Magcon boys look truly bored in these videos, with not a glint of adoration for their diehard fans in their eyes. The former stans taking to TikTok now are providing me with my biggest cackles of May, so shoutout to them and shoutout to Cameron Dallas for doing whatever it was he thought he was doing back then.
Joe Jonas / Aly & AJ reunion. These days, Joe Jonas is just about everywhere – from Cafe Lyria to Jake Shane’s Therapuss podcast. But considering how much of a Jonas historian I consider myself – especially as it pertains to their intra-Disney dating days – this reunion in particular was the best place I’ve seen him at in recent times (if I’m not counting his pop-up DJ appearance at The Stranger that I attended back in 2023). If you are unfamiliar with the lore, AJ Michalka – of twin girl band Aly & AJ and co-lead actor of acclaimed DCom Cowbelles – was Joe’s first girlfriend when they were in their early teens, even before Nick met Miley.1 It is widely believed that Aly & AJ’s best-known hit “Potential Breakup Song” was written about AJ and Joe’s breakup, but they’ve been on record to say this is a mere rumor. The Aly & AJ banger that is about Joe is the damning “Flattery”. “Please don’t flatter yourself / you’re not the only one this heart has ever felt” is the couplet that opens this Disney Channel take on “You Oughta Know” and quite frankly, it falls in line with Taylor Swift’s characterization of Teenage Joe on “Mr. Perfectly Fine”. But all has seemingly been forgiven since the genesis of these Joe-inspired tunes. Taylor said so herself on “invisible string” when she sang “cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart, now I send their babies presents”, referencing her gifting Joe Jonas and Sophie Turner Taylor-made knitwear for their baby. Well, this month, it was AJ’s turn for public forgiveness. Joe appeared at Aly & AJ’s recent gig to perform their classic Ice Princess soundtrack cut “No One” and do some TikTok fan service.
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The All-American Rejects House Party Tour. It all started at the end of April when Tyson Ritter & Co. crashed a house party where a teenage cover band played some AAR anthems. This surprise went super viral and inspired the pop-punk pros to start their own unconventional tour in which they’d crash house parties across the U.S. and perform there instead of in arenas. You can sign up at the link in the All-American Rejects’ Instagram bio for your chance to have the band come to your city or town. Time for them to move along on coming to NYC.
Lancôme Juicy Tubes May marketing strategy. I am a sucker for any brand that taps into nostalgia marketing and Lancôme nailed it with their latest social media blitz for their Juicy Tubes lip gloss line, which had its heyday in the early 2000s. To promote the newest shades, the makeup brand got an all-star cast to make mini commercials harking back to their Juicy Tube usage in those olden days. Mischa Barton reminisced on applying it before her famous ferris wheel scene with Ben McKenzie on The O.C.; Hilary Duff put her own spin on the get-ready-with-me trend and superimposed a Lizzie McGuire-esque cartoon next to her to yap with her about this must-have product. They even wrangled Chad Michael Murray and Ed Westwick to testify that their characters went for girls who wore the gloss. The vids made seismic waves across the Internet and it’s a marketing move I wish I thought of myself.
Monthly Media Menu:
“Why I Broke Up with New York” by Lena Dunham (The New Yorker)
Jensen McRae live at the Bowery Ballroom
“Why Does Everything Sound Like An Audition Song for The Voice?” by Larisha Paul (Rolling Stone)
Heartburn by Nora Ephron
“Why I Find Comedy in Difficult Places. Like My Dad’s Stroke.” by Mike Birbiglia (The New York Times)
“Maggie Rogers: The Truth About Dreams” by Maggie Rogers (The New York Times)
Sleeper Hit #10: Mark Ronson, specifically as a celebrity crush. I know his musical genius cannot be overstated (though he is partially responsible for the omnipresence of Barbie’s dreadful “I’m Just Ken”), but he seems like a true catch and I feel like I very rarely hear his name come up in The Conversation. When I went to see Vampire Weekend at MSG in October of 2024, Mark Ronson opened for them and played an epic DJ set I still think about to this day. The man spun “Slow Burn” by Kacey Musgraves (what he affectionately called “one of the greatest songs of all time” – I agree wholeheartedly) into “Paper Planes” by M.I.A. Then, he played “I Want You Back” by the Jackson 5 with a fade-in to his Bruno Mars collab “Uptown Funk”. “Uptown Funk” faded in to “Maps” by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs. “Maps” in to “Hold Up” by Beyoncé, which VW’s own Ezra Koenig actually helped to write for Beyoncé. A Star Is Born’s “Shallow” in to MGMT’s coming-of-age classic “Time to Pretend”. This DJ set reinvigorated my love for this man, who is also responsible for producing Amy Winehouse’s seminal Back to Black. Ronson’s the full package in my book, as far as well-rounded celebrity crushes.
I really need to write an oral history called When Nick Met Miley à la When Harry Met Sally. Yes, it is that deep. Just listen to “Before the Storm”.