10 Things: Lindsay Pugh
All Lindsay's recommendations for what to explore, utilize, peruse, make, read, send, and more this week.
Dear Ones,
I am very excited to share with you this guest post from one of my favorite all-time writers, Lindsay Pugh. Lindsay does a good job of introducing herself in the letter she’s written, but I feel like I should tell you that she has actually saved my life multiple times over with her writing. Also, half of the things I recommend to you are just things Lindsay recommends to me.
I’m not putting any of this below the paywall — you deserve to read everything Lindsay has to share! But if you want to subscribe to a paid tier anyway, wow, would I be grateful! (And I’d buy Lindsay dinner.) (Which I am going to do anyway.)
On to it!
FROM LINDSAY:
Hello, friends of Sophie!
If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while, you might vaguely remember me. I’m Lindsay Pugh, the person behind those deranged “Gilmore Girls” recaps on Woman in Revolt. I also write about movies, tv, and (sometimes) books. Other assorted facts that hopefully make me sound endearing and not obnoxious:
I think Anne is the best, most underrated Brontë sister. For more information, see this cartoon by the fantastic Kate Beaton.
I’m currently in the throes of an early midlife crisis. In lieu of buying a Porsche, I’m adopting a pair of Maine Coon sisters named Judith and Cassandra.
If it’s Saturday or Sunday morning, you will likely find me at an estate sale. There is no greater high than discovering the perfect $2 winter jacket.
Since the beginning of our friendship, I’ve routinely bombarded Sophie with recommendations of things I think she’ll enjoy, to the point where she was recently like, “Maybe you should guest write ten things.” So, without further adieu, here is my list. I hope it helps you remember that even when life sucks, art has the power to transport you away from it all, if only temporarily.
EXPLORE: The assorted benefits at your local library
I recently moved to White Plains, New York and upon registering for a library card, was delighted to discover that it can be used to borrow passes to many museums in the area, including Storm King, MoMA, and the Guggenheim. A quick internet perusal tells me this is a benefit many libraries offer. My hometown outside of Pittsburgh does something called the RAD Pass, where a library card is used to register for free or discounted tickets to events, like the opera and baseball games. The library has always been a great, underrated public service and now I have even more reasons to love it.
Another great library card feature is access to Kanopy, a video streaming platform that is far better than most paid services. Last year, I went through a months-long Frederick Wiseman obsession and was able to watch almost all of his documentaries, along with films by some of my other favorites like Agnes Varda and Apichatpong Weerasethakul, on Kanopy. Select BBC and PBS series are likewise available. If you haven’t watched Sally Wainwright’s To Walk Invisible, a period drama about the aforementioned Brontë sisters, now is the time.
UTILIZE: Google Maps historical street view for an A+ nostalgia trip
After graduating from college in 2011, I moved into a gross, roach-infested railroad apartment in Park Slope, Brooklyn. I was so depressed and homesick that all I did for a straight month was rewatch Felicity in my oppressively hot, windowless and doorless bedroom. In this limbo period before starting work and grad school, the only food I ate came from the Thai restaurant down the street. Shopping for groceries felt impossible and I had too much anxiety to use the shared kitchen and risk running into my stranger roommates. It was much easier to slink downstairs and walk a few blocks for the vegetable garlic stir fry at… what was the name of that place again? You’d think I would remember it considering how much time I spent there and how aggressively they papered the neighborhood with their pink and green menus, but my mind is blank.
The restaurant closed in 2012 and by the time it popped back into my head — a decade later, at 3 a.m. when I couldn’t sleep, natch — no Google search would return the name. When I complained about this to my friend Meg, she was like, “Did you try Google’s historical street view?” No, bitch, I did not! Because I had no idea it existed.
It’s really easy to access, too. Once you’re in street view, all you do is select “see more dates” under the address in the top left hand corner. From there, all of the different captures will pop up on the bottom of the screen and after selecting one, you can scroll down memory lane. In the case of my mysterious Thai restaurant, the name I could not for the life of me remember was Fueng Far.
My big lingering question: instead of using AI to completely decimate the movie and publishing industry, why can’t we use it to recreate virtual pre-internet neighborhoods? How cool would it be to read Eve Babitz’s Slow Days, Fast Company while zooming through Los Angeles in the 60s and 70s? This is how we should be using technology.
PERUSE: Polyester Zine
Do you miss Bitch magazine? The old Jezebel? Gal-dem? Rookie? Then Polyester Zine is probably for you. It reminds me of the days when the internet was fun and people like Daniel M. Lavery (né Ortberg) distracted me during my first dumb desk job with the Western Art History series. Nowadays, too much internet writing is clickbait celebrity blah blah or “buy this thing to make yourself less ugly” and I am over it. I like Polyester because it’s thoughtful, creative, and doesn’t try to sell me shit. I wish the writing was a titch less serious and more stupid/funny, but that’s just me being greedy.
All of their content is paywalled, but I recommend checking out their Instagram. They often post video essay reels that correspond to the pieces on the site, so you can get a feel for the vibe before making a commitment. They also offer a 30-day free trial.
Recently, I enjoyed Madison Jamar’s piece, “The Lasting Impact of "Realness" In Black Reality TV.” Anyone who grew up watching Flavor of Love, the (far superior) spin-off I Love New York, and America’s Next Top Model will remember the moments she dissects. I wouldn’t consider myself a huge reality TV person these days, but my recent foray into the newest season of The Real Housewives of New York City has reinvigorated my interest in the genre. I would love to know what Jamar has to say about Sai De Silva.
MAKE: Mother’s Cashew Tamari Salad Dressing
When I went to SXSW in 2019, I stayed right by Mother’s Cafe, a beloved Hyde Park vegetarian restaurant that had been around for nearly forty years. During my trip, I ate there every single night because I couldn’t get enough of the cashew tamari dressing that accompanied their side salads. I loved it so much that I stuck my face directly into the takeout container to lick the dregs like a feral cat.
When the pandemic shuttered the restaurant in October 2020, I mourned the loss of the perfect dressing. But then! I realized that the cafe still sold it online. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stomach paying $11/bottle including shipping. Determined to recreate it on the cheap, I tried many inferior iterations before finally landing on this recipe, which is close to my memory of the original.
In a food processor, pulse together the following ingredients until you have your desired mix of large and small cashew chunks:
1 cup cashews
4 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
6-7 tablespoons tamari
2 cups canola oil
Refrigerate the dressing in a glass container. I use it on basically everything: salad, sandwiches, rice bowls, savory yogurt, eggs, roasted vegetables, etc. I’ve been making it regularly for three years and I’m still not sick of it.
If you’re new to Andrew Haigh, prepare for emotional devastation because all of his projects are about how childhood trauma fucks you up forever. They’re also about identity, loneliness, and intimacy… shit that makes you relive all of the most vulnerable moments in your life. In other words, prepare to cry and don’t say I didn’t warn you! If you’re not ready for a lengthy sadness k-hole, maybe start with his 2014 to 2015 HBO series, Looking. It’s not exactly an easy watch, but there’s more humor to balance out the heartbreak.
All of Us Strangers, in theaters December 22, is loosely based on Japanese writer Taichi Yamada’s 2003 novel, Strangers. The protagonist, Adam (Andrew Scott), is a lonely middle-aged man living in a new, and mostly empty, London high-rise when he crosses paths with another tenant in the building named Harry (Paul Mescal). Romance ensues, complications arise, and Frankie Goes to Hollywood gets their best cinematic moment since Body Double (1984). It’s not exactly a straightforward love story, though, because Adam’s dead ghost parents (Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) play an even larger role than Harry in Adam’s life.
I don’t want to say too much for fear of spoiling anything, but I urge those who see the film to embrace the strangeness instead of trying to figure out what exactly is happening at every turn. Even if it doesn’t come together for you immediately, new layers will emerge over time, especially with subsequent viewings.
FOLLOW: My Old Books on Instagram
This account is run by Marie-Pascale Traylor, an artist, former preschool teacher, and vintage children’s bookseller, who not only shares cute illustrations, but uses her reach to help identify forgotten treasures based on hazy details. As soon as my friend Kaitlyn mentioned it, I found myself obsessively scrolling through the posts to see if I could help solve any remaining mysteries. Although I don’t have (or want) any children of my own, I am an avid book collector and have a great fondness for whimsical illustrations. Some of my favorites include Nancy Willard’s The Nightgown of the Sullen Moon, Wendy Kesselman’s Emma, and Adrienne Adams’s A Woggle of Witches.
For years, I had a vivid memory of going to the Tarentum Library each Halloween and checking out books about a little witch and her cat. The drawings were usually in pencil and often featured fun things like flocks of bats, sparkly potions, and colorful socks. Much like with the Fueng Far insomnia spiral, I spent months Googling before I finally nailed it down as Patricia Coombs’s Dorrie the Little Witch series, thanks to this post from the blog, Vintage Kids’ Books My Kid Loves. Praise be! But imagine… had My Old Books existed at the time, I could have saved myself months of frustration.
GO DOWN A RABBIT HOLE: Bonnie Cashin
I will always love Dear Golden, Ann Arbor’s best vintage store, for first introducing me to icon/legend Bonnie Cashin. After my flu shot in 2020, I popped in to browse and walked out with an incredible coat and a new religion: Cashinism (coined by Jonathan Adler). How had I not heard of this pioneering American sportswear designer, the woman widely credited for popularizing the concept of layering? (Which, for the record, she said she picked up from 1910s Chinatown, where “Today is a ten-layer day” was a common expression.) The woman responsible for Gene Tierney’s 28 delicious costume changes in Laura (1944)?
After I began digging into her work, I realized that her influence is everywhere, although she doesn’t have the wide recognition of peers like Anne Klein and Pierre Cardin, perhaps because she never licensed her name or hired assistants. If something has a Bonnie Cashin label, that means it was designed by Cashin herself. She wanted complete creative control and strove to remain on the fringes of fashion society, designing from private design studios she referred to as “secret laboratories.” If you want to learn more about Cashin, I highly recommend Stephanie Lake’s book, Chic Is Where You Find It, and Maura Brannigan’s 2020 article for Fashionista.
And, because she’s still under the radar (despite this buzzy recent collab), I highly recommend keeping an eye out for her pieces the next time you’re at an estate sale or thrift shop. One of my best finds of all-time is this khaki cape, which set me back a measly $2. When I pulled it from the depths of a random Detroit closet, I almost started to cry.
SEND: Snail mail
Modern adulthood is garbage. Everyone is overworked and overwhelmed. Technology connects us 24/7 but digital communication often feels hollow, especially after overdosing on Zoom meetings and text messages throughout the pandemic. As much as I would love to regularly catch up with friends who live far away, I don’t have the energy for group chats that notify me every time someone “hearts” something. My brain can’t handle those distractions. I want to maintain friendships and let people know that I care about them, but not at the expense of my own sanity. I want it all to happen at a slower pace, without any expectation (whether real or perceived) for immediacy.
Enter: snail mail. Over the years, I’ve conned several people into pen pal friendships. Some of them involve lengthy, journal-like existential ruminations. Others are epistolary bitch sessions. I send people anything I think they’d find interesting — articles I’ve ripped out of magazines, bookmarks from local shops, photos I’ve taken and printed. I always buy vinyl stickers in bulk so that any time one of my friends’ kids has a birthday, I can toss something small their way without bankrupting myself (Sloe Gin Fizz has the best animal stickers). I think/hope that these quarterly missives make up for all the times I’ve favored Do Not Disturb and lengthy sadness baths over human interaction.
READ: Catherine Lacey’s Biography of X
This had been sitting on my shelf for months, untouched, because I figured it would be one of those highly stylized novels that require a ton of mental focus. I like to read fiction in the evenings, often post-edible, when my brain is mushy and not exactly primed for interpreting intricate plots or dueling, interwoven narratives. The main thing I had heard about this book before reading is that it features an alternate history of the United States where, after WWII, the southern states left the union and became a dictatorial theocracy while the north turned into a liberal democracy, complete with Bernie Sanders presidency.
The novel is presented to the reader as the biography of an enigmatic artist named X, written by her widow, journalist C.M. Lucca. After X’s death, C.M. realizes how little she knows about her late wife and embarks on a journey to piece together her sprawling story, featuring real people like Connie Converse (I loved this subplot so much) and Susan Sontag. Imagine X as some combination of Patti Smith (name-dropped in the book), Andy Warhol, Cindy Sherman, and (the also fictional) Lydia Tár.
People overlook X’s pretentious assholery because of her talent but now that she’s dead, it’s time for a reassessment. The book’s back cover describes the novel as a “roaring epic that plumbs the depths of grief, art, and love,” but it’s just as much about identity and the impossibility of separating art from the artist. I found it fascinating and even though I felt like it lost steam in the final third, it’s still one of my favorite books of 2023. I highly recommend it if you like Just Kids, Please Kill Me, and/or the Aleksandr Petrovsky episodes of Sex and the City.
LISTEN TO: Dorothy Ashby’s Afro-Harping
This is actually a recommendation Turducken because I first heard of Dorothy Ashby while watching Habibi’s “What’s in my Bag?” episode on Amoeba’s YouTube channel. The best music I’ve discovered over the past decade has typically come from this series or the wonderful record label, Dust-to-Digital. When Rahill [Jamalifard] described Ashby’s sound as “celestial,” I knew I needed to check it out. I’m always looking for instrumental albums to have on in the background while I work and Afro-Harping is a complete banger. This album is my vinyl white whale and I’ve been searching for it for years without luck. It’s currently available as part of a Vinyl Me Please box set that I can’t bring myself to spend the money on, but maybe someday.
As with Bonnie Cashin, it bums me out that more people don’t know about Ashby. I thought Joanna Newsom made the harp cool! PJ Harvey plays the autoharp! Anyone who fucks with those artists could probably dig Ashby. In my mind, Afro-Harping would make the perfect soundtrack for Doris Wishman’s Nude on the Moon (1961) or any of the tea shop scenes in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.
If I close my eyes while listening to the first track, “Soul Vibrations,” I picture a beautiful woman with a gauzy, flowing headscarf driving through Palm Springs in a cream Mercedes 190SL. When she arrives at her destination — a swanky old-school steakhouse — she traipses inside, perches at the bar with perfect posture, and one minute later, is presented with her drink of choice: a dirty vodka martini with two olives. As she pops one of the olives into her mouth, she winks at the bartender in a way that is cute and not at all creepy.
P.S. Ashby also played the koto, a Japanese zither with 13 silk strings and movable bridges. To hear this magic, listen to The Rubaiyat of Dorothy Ashby. And if you want to know more about her, this is a good read.
These are so great! They also led me down a three-hour Gilmore Girls rabbit hole that I've only just managed to claw my way out of! Thanks for sharing, I love your writing!
Lindsay Pugh; you are wise. Thank you.