Being from the East Coast I feel that I was raised with a bit of snobbery where the Midwest was concerned. It wasn’t that it wasn’t nice, it was just that there was very little reason for me to go there. Besides airport stopovers in Chicago and Minneapolis when my mom and I would fly west to visit family in California, Wyoming and Colorado as I child, I never spent any time there. That changed in my earlier twenties when, the course of one year, I drove across the country three times. I got to explore Minneapolis, Madison and Chicago and found that hey, these are really nice places with a lot going on! But still, my snobbery remained in a small corner of my heart.
Afternoon walk on the Bearskin State Park trail with bonnet handmade by Donna S. White and Cachemire et Soie sunglasses by Jimmy Fairly
This fall I had the opportunity thanks to work to revisit my beloved Detroit, as well as Chicago and quick stops in Milwaukee and Minneapolis. The highlight of my trip, however, was three days in Minocqua, in the north woods of Wisconsin, about a 5 hour drive from Milwaukee.
Fall in Minocqua, WI
I was there for a day-long gathering of arts service providers, but had some extra time to appreciate the landscape. I had no idea that the north woods is a huge summer destination for residents of Chicago and Milwaukee. The desk clerk at the hotel told me that the town of Minocqua has a year-round population of 5,000, but that swells to over 70,000 during the summer. I came right between fall foliage and holiday season and the Waters, a large, old time feeling log-cabin resort complete with indoor water park, was nearly deserted. No matter. I enjoyed my in-room fire place and having the hot tub in the water park all to myself.
Lobby at the Waters, Minocqua, WI
When I wasn’t working I found myself with plenty to do. My first night I enjoyed a hearty dinner of sandwiches and locally brewed beer overlooking the lake at Minocqua Brewing Company and the second night specially prepared Bratwurst at Otto’s. Otto’s is filled with treasures that the owners have brought back from all over the world, including beer steins and authentic suits of armor. That is when I remembered, “Oh yeah, this part of the midwest is still very German! That town further south from here named Rhinelander is no coincidence.”
Otto's in downtown Minocqua, WI
The north woods is home to many talented artists who are excited about their communities and dedicated to their work. One place that serves as a gathering place for local, national and international talent is the Campanile Center for the Arts, whose Executive Director also runs Loon Land Trading Company, a store full of north woods goodness.
Trestle bridge on the Bearskin State Park trail
A major highlight was a late afternoon walk on the Hiawatha and Bearskin State Park trail. Located along a disused railway line, it begins in Minocqua and passes over two, beautiful wooden trestle railway bridges. I loved the sun reflecting off the lakes, where I watched fishermen bringing their boats in for the day, and met year-round residents out walking their dogs.
As I looked around me the landscape and the trees reminded me of a place I know very well: Maine. It’s about the same latitude, has the same industries (tourism, logging, farming), and the same kind of vegetation, as well as hard working people who are filled with ingenuity. In fact, playing my Maine card was a smart idea, as my host announced, “She’s a real person, she’s not from New York! She grew up in Maine!”
Also, apparently I’m not the only one who loves this region, because the New York Times just ran an article about the north woods “supper clubs” in last weekend’s travel section!
One afternoon the other week my office was dismissed early from work due to unfounded fears that the Occupy Wallstreet movement was planning to shut down the NYC subway system. Now for my French readers the shutting down of a part of the city’s transit system due to a strike or a protest is a regular occurrence that provokes some grumbling, some shrugs, and, usually, begrudging support. In New York, however, it seemed to be provoke a lot of fear and confusion. As one of my Facebook friends smartly commented, “Don’t the protesters know that the 1% does not take the subway? They take taxis, sheesh” (or have private cars).
This got me to thinking about my (largely unexpressed) thoughts on the Occupy movement. First and foremost, this fall I’m far too occupied to participate, unfortunately. In this terrible economy I made the decision to go back to university for my master’s degree and continue to work full time. When I began in the fall of 2009 I had the vain hope that by the time I finished the economy would be improved and I would be able to find a leadership position in an arts organization that pays a living wage. Still waiting on that one. However, this leaves me very little time for anything that is not work, school or a pressing concern related to my life or one of the many projects I have going.
But more seriously and to the point: what do I think of the Occupy movement? And isn’t contesting the policies that large corporations, banks, lobbyists and the US government supported that got us into this economic mess more important than my selfish concerns? In short, yes, they are, but…
Overall, I support the Occupy Wallstreet movement wholeheartedly. I think that their biggest victory has been to move forward and reframe the political and media discourse in the United States and world-wide. The movement has brought critique of the United States’ unequal, inefficient and unethical economic, labor and education policies to a mainstream audience. It has brought a more progressive tone to debates around the role of government in the economy and private life, which is a real relief after the rise of the Tea Party movement last year.
For me personally it is very heartening to see this style of protest come back in the United States after it the anti-globalization and anti-war movements (both of which I participated in) were squashed by Bush and the general post-9/11 political climate. It’s also disgusting (and sadly unsurprising) to see how power continues to react when threatened, whether those are police on a California college campus or on the streets of New York.
However, as a student (soon to be graduate!) of public policy, the Occupy Wallstreet movement has not articulated any concrete list of policy goals. This is a strength, because it allows the movement to appeal to a broad range of people. After all, if you are claiming to represent the 99 percent (or even the 95% or the 90%) that is a huge range of people and opinions. However, this is also a weakness because it prevents the movement from gaining political support in a way that laws can be enacted and policies can be changed.
The Occupy movement has also gained much attention because it is led and fueled by young people. It has captured the imagination of highly educated people who have found no gainful employment due to the economy and have every right to be frustrated. Of course, organized labor, activists of all stripes, veterans and a diverse crowd has also joined in the movement. Many people involved in their early twenties are coming of age politically through their participation. I remember the feeling of being 19 to 22 and protesting, feeling like it could radically shift the way the world was organized. I do not write this condescendingly when I saw that protest is a right of passage and an inalienable right. However, many “occupiers” did not experience the way the Bush administration squashed opposition to the war in Iraq or debate around any number of his policies. I feel in many ways the institutional memory between US protest movements is short (or nonexistent) and the Occupy protestors are learning lessons that those protesting for years, between the 1950s and the 2000s, had to learn again and again.
I think what I feel is important to note is that in the United States we live in an economic and governmental that is incapable of radical change. It was set up that way and that has only become more entrenched. Do I think this is right? No, I think it’s an incredible inefficient, undemocratic system, but I also think that to retain any sense of democracy it will only change gradually. This is again why I am grateful for Occupy Wallstreet for re-framing political debate, which Nicholas Kristoff wrote about eloquently in the New York Times.
To shift the conversation in the media and the mind of the general public away from “Will their camp be cleared again? Will the protest movement survive the winter? Who are these hippes?” it is high time that Occupy Wallstreet (even though it is leaderless, I know) put forth some policy alternatives for debate and discussion. This may mean that less than 99% of people support what they are trying to accomplish, but it will also increase their changes of having a lasting impact on our policy and not just our political imagination. It’s also important for the movement to grasp some political and economic realities of the political process in the US. Paul Krugman and Adam Davidson have a few important points to consider.
These economic times have produced a lot of uncertainty, a lot of hardship, and a lot of anger. It’s important to have a public place to go with those feelings and to find a place of hope and inspiration. However, it’s also important to construct sustainable survival strategies, to help people in small ways every day, to promote equity throughout society, and to think about economic and personal innovation despite the system we live in. That’s the role I’ve carved out for myself working in education and the arts. It’s not for everyone, but it’s what works for me. It’s small, it’s quiet, but I believe in it and that’s what I will continue to push for, day-in, day-out.
Recently I’ve had the pleasant surprise of receiving two drawings! The one above by my Instagram friend Chrisdoodles was done from a picture I posted when I was all decked out and ready to go to the Cherylween: Prellraiser dance party (you can see the original here). The picture below was on a flyer for another iteration of the Suzanne Stroebe and Caitline Rueter’s Feminist Tea Party, which I participated in when they were at the New York Foundation for the Arts. It shows me leading a discussion about feminist art and aesthetics and if there is such a thing.
I love these two pictures because not only are they graphically bold and match my aeshetic, but because they capture two sides of my life that sometimes feel very distinct from each other: there’s the side of me that wants to dress up, have fun, wear an outlandish costume, dance with my friends, indulge in silliness and and forget about the world. Then there’s the side of me that is thoughtful, easy going, cautious, and measured. I want to sit down and engage in discussions in a reasonable manner about the big questions and how to address them: inequality, culture, art, ideas. I think these two drawings show that our lives are complex, and that’s what makes them balanced, nuanced, complicated and joyous.
It’s feels strange to imagine, but exactly a year ago today I was getting on an Air France flight at JFK airport and leaving cold, damp grey November weather in New York for cold, damp grey November weather in Paris. Even in chilly November Paris sparkles. It’s just getting ready for the holidays and all the glitter that come with them, and late fall sunlight never fails to make even the dampest, greyest sidewalks inspiring.
I try to remind myself that I am lucky to live in New York, but when I look at pictures of Paris, I feel my heart start to soften and melt and nostalgia overwhelms me. This is the city I feel I am truly meant to be in. I feel about Paris in my 20’s and 30’s how I felt about New York City in my teens. There’s a deep attraction and a longing to be in a place that I feel fits all the contours of who I am, or at least who I wish myself to be.
I know it’s irrational. I live in a big city and I understand the frustrations of daily city living. It wears you down. People are rude. It’s exhausting. But then there are the rooftops, the sky, the open markets, the cafes, the boutiques, the culture, the Seine, the rues, the quartiers, the Canal St. Martin, all the many nuances that make up Paris.
Last year I set myself a Parisian itinerary guided by collections of “bonnes addresses” from blogs I had been reading and Pia Jane Bijkerk’s book Paris Made by Hand. I visited my dear sister, ate croissants like there was no tomorrow (the average Parisian croissant is better than the best New York croissant, which should not come as a surprise to you), and learned about the 80’s teen pop sensation Lio. I spent a lovely afternoon (and several awesome evenings) with my dear friend Leila, running around to indie boutiques like Corner de Createurs and La Cocotte (twice!), and doing silly things I love like going to Monoprix, having tea at Mariage Frères, cooing at beautiful clothes at Antoine et Lili, and buying bras at Princesse Tam Tam. I also just let myself wander until my feet were frozen, rode the metro just because I like it (I never do that in New York), snapped pictures, and soaked it in what I hope was enough Paris to sustain me until I can come back to the city that feels like my rightful home in the world.
Petite Atlier de Paris. Great for handmade gifts!
Near Gare du Nord
Repetto paradise on Rue du Paix
The cozy apartment of my friend Leila. I love how Parisian apartment have the most perfect, tiny balconies.
The only disadvantage being that old Parisian apartments are also walk ups. In this case 7 floors!
Noodle soup lunch at L'Alicheur, just off Rue Oberkamf
My first breakfast in Paris at Pick Clops in the Marais after my overnight flight
Rue Cremieux, stumbled upon close to the Gare du Lyon while I was on my way to catch the train to my sister's house.
It started with a tweet, “When I am I going to see Corita play?” It seemed like a simple enough question, except that the author of the tweet was Michel, of the indie band MiLK & Fruit Juice and he lives in France. Unfortunately Corita did not have (and still does not have) any plans to play a show in France. Or anywhere else outside of New York. So I wrote back, “I don’t know, when are you coming to New York? I’ll set up a show.” Then I got a better idea, “Why don’t you play a solo show with us?” When Michel told me he was coming to NYC in September I wasted no time in booking a venue. However, I knew the other members of MiLK & Fruit Juice could not come to NYC and that being on stage alone in a new city is intimidating, and so I volunteered to be the backing band.
Photo by Anne Bourgeon
First of all, let me explain why I love MiLK & Fruit Juice: Michel writes catchy, dreamy songs that are full of heart. Some of them sound a bit twee, with with accents of toy instruments and excellent backing vocals from Marjorie and Sabine, but there’s also a twist of sadness, irony and realism. I am delighted to have met someone all the way across the Atlantic that shares so many of the same musical interests and passions as me. While that may seem like a small thing in this Internet age, when you meet in person, it still seems pretty magical.
Photo by Anne Bourgeon
On a rainy night in September at Spike Hill in Williamsburg the Pale Lights, MiLK & Fruit Juice and Corita shared the stage. Michel and I had one practice together under our belt and I was playing drums and singing back up on five of his songs. The day of the show I listened to the songs from his well-crafted album I’m Cold Handed Because I Have No Heart to Pump The Blood Through My Fingers on repeat. That night Michel debuted a beautiful, vintage Silvertone guitar he had found at Rivington guitars. I got to break out of my usual role as a guitar player and play drums, with drum sticks that Lisa Goldstein of the Pale Lights loaned to me for Michel’s set. Apparently I kept the fact that I play drums secret from my friends, but I actually took drum lessons for several years in middle school! I never really graduated beyond a 4/4 rock beat though. In any event, it was really fun (and a little nerve wracking) to be on stage playing drums supporting a friend whose music I love and who lives so far away. Anne, who co-runs the label MonsterK7 in Montreal and Paris, took these beautiful photos and video, and Sabine was kind enough to share with me. Enjoy and if you like Michel’s music perhaps you will set up a show for him in your town! Or at least buy his record.
During the day on Saturday I received this Facebook message, “Halloween snow! A white CHERYLWEEN. The dandruff of the gods is beckoning us to have a shampoo ritual! See you tonight at the Bell House!”
Leopard coat bought when I was 20 at Magpie in Portland, Oregon
In my last post I promised to show you what my nice, black outfit with tasteful gold highlights turned into. That’s right, with the application of some goody “Wake Up With Curls” curlers I turned into PRELLRAISER. What? Prell shampoo + horror movies = Prellraiser. That is, if you are CHERYL, the notorious, Brooklyn-based dance party put on by museum educators who love cats, jazzersize, sequins, video art, fake blood and authentic fun.
I love CHERYL because it lacks any sheen of New York attitude, is friendly for both queers and hetero people and condones general arty weirdness. Going for over three years strong CHERYL started in a tiny bar (which has since been renamed and redone) in South Brooklyn because aforementioned arts workers were frustrated they had to keep going to Williamsburg to go to the fun dance parties. They made a dance, they made a video, they found really good DJ’s and CHERYL was born.
With all their acclaim, CHERYL remains an amazingly fun party run by nice people who are glad that you are there. It’s still held regularly in South Brooklyn, the videos are as full of socially commentary, catchy beats, and fake blood as ever, and it’s my favorite (and probably only) place I dare to wear ridiculous clothes and cut loose on the dance floor. Here’s a few CHERYL looks over the years. I hope to see you on the floor the next time!
Photo by Nolan Conway
At the White Cube, photo by Nolan Conway
Me and Andy, my friend from high school, at the White Cube
At the 7/11 party, this photo was featured in a slide show on the Village Voice's website. Yes, I made my own Slurpee hat out of pompoms and a stolen Slurpee cup.
Slurpee hat. Masking tape on my shirt. Must be CHERYL.
Customized shoes for CHERYL 7/11
EUROCheryl
The theme was EUROCheryl. Okay. I'm holding a copy of L'Etranger.
Sasquach on Broadway. I made this dress and reused it for the "Nausea" party, the photo of which I sadly cannot find.
Not sure which party this was for - I think "Thanks for ruining my prom, thanks for ruining my life," but I can tell you that Ida the cat stayed home that night.
Arctic Fury, the first CHERYL I ever went to I was too lazy to create a costume. Fortunately there is always a craft table, so I just put some silver sparkly stuff around my waist.
American Apparel top, BCBG skirt (from Housing Works), Nine West heels, Leila Rowe Necklace, Asos tights (sadly they have a run in them, so I can't wear them anymore!)
At first I was inspired by Stephanie and her successful score of a Stella McCartney-like black dress with transparent cutouts. Then I read it in L’Officiel. Yep, it’s official, transparent is a trend this season. And with the holiday fêtes fast approaching, why not have something to dress up your formal wear (or just your black everyday clothes, if you are a Parisian or a New Yorker)? While I didn’t think I would be drawn into the trend I found a black, transparent chiffon top in American Apparel that I found very appealing (I swear, I only went in there for tights, and walked out with tights, this top and a watch).
In anticipation of a pre-Halloween dance party I put together this ensemble which I am sure will make it’s appearance at more than a few soirees this winter and is almost appropriate for work. Minus the gold high heels, which I think are appropriate for work, though one of my fashion advisers begs to differ. These gold heels were ordered online in an impulse, but I think they are an okay stand-in for the Miu Miu heels of my dreams for the price (if you ever want to marry me please do not propose with a diamond ring, just offer me a pair of those shoes, thank you). Tomorrow I will show you how this stately outfit was transformed into a costume with a few simple beauty products, but for now, enjoy the sparkle!
Close up of my glittery Nine West heels and Asos tights
"Tendance Transparence" spread in October 2011 L'Officiel
Texas has its own mythology. Its own place in the American imagination. Depending on who you ask Texas is the reason for the United State’s current political mess, or the greatest place in the US, or somewhere in between. It is a universe unto itself, a huge and diverse place, full of long drives and very pretty countryside. I was lucky enough to spend a few days there in mid-September and take in some of the cities and sites. And of course, the Tex-Mex food.
The Orange Show, Houston, TX
When I first got to Houston I felt overwhelmed by the highways, humidity and strangely quiet downtown. I hid in a Starbucks and tapped away on my computer. Thankfully, the next day some native Houstonians helped me get hip to the more alternative and arty side of Houston. One of the huge highlights is the Orange Show, a folk art environment created by a postal worker named Jeff McKissack that was began in 1956 and completed in 1979. I loved the Orange Show’s immersive space and the passionate group of people behind the Orange Show Center for Visionary Art that are working to preserve it and other “folk” or “self-taught” art environments and traditions in Houston.
Ladies only in this part of the Orange Show
Purity of the orange is celebrated at the Orange Show
I also soaked up some more “traditional” art at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston where I soaked up a room sized mural of mountains and flowers that looked like a traditional Chinese ink painting, but was made out of gunpowder by Cai Guo Qiang. I also discovered the self-portrait by Suzanne Valadon and spent several minutes in front of it contemplating her sheer determination to paint and make a life for herself as a woman artist. In their gift shop I picked up two Frenchie books – My Little Paris (en anglais because I am a cheater) and Ines de la Fressange’s guide to Parisian style. I visited the Menil Collection, including their hotly contested Bzyantine fresco chapel which is being returned to Cyprus next year, and some smaller art spaces like the awesome Spacetaker artists resource center and gallery.
I love the sheer determination shown in this self-portrait by Suzanne Valadon at the MFA Houston
In the MFA Houston gift shop I found a treasure trove of books about Paris!
The sidewalks outside of the MFA Houston are painted in collaboration with a local artist
I also fortunately got away from the corporate style restaurants downtown and found one of my favorite things about Texas: spacious coffee shops with nice breakfast menus and outdoor seating. These places are so inviting, like you just want to hang out all day eating and sipping fair trade coffee. I enjoyed both Brasil and Empire Cafe (which are quite close to one another and the Menil Collection) as well as the super El Real, which has great Tex-Mex and is in an old movie theater!
Neon at El Real!
Westerns at El Real
After Houston I took a quick, few hour stop in San Antonio, and then rolled on to Austin. After some frenetic days of work on the road I took a little bit of time to unwind with my friend Jennifer. We took a drive about an hour outside of Austin to Krause Springs. Located in the rolling hill country it almost feels like a folk art environment as well, with rock pools, wind chimes and a spring fed lagoon. While Krause Springs felt like an oasis, Texas is going through one of its worst droughts on record and we drove through the remnants of a fire on the way there, charred trees with ashy leaves making the landscape look otherworldly.
Krause Springs, in Spicewood, Texas
I couldn’t skip eating Tex-Mex in Austin either, of course, and Austin is home to even more fantastic cafes with outdoor seating and of course, coffee shops that serve the delicious (and huge!) breakfast tacos.
Tex-Mex, Austin style!
But of course, after all that Tex-Mex I took a little break and Jennifer, her friend Jennifer and I had a lovely girlie dinner at a perfectly French brasserie called Justine’s with lovely food and delicious cocktails (also check out the “amazing” section of their website).
Toast to Texas friends at Justine's
The Saturday night scene at Justine's
Photo shoot outside of Arthouse TX
I also managed a visit to the Austin Film Society, Arthouse Texas and Domy Books, where we saw a wonderful opening, I connected with an old zinester friend, and purchased a book called I ♥ Macarons. Indeed, it seems like I found a lot of France and a lot of art and a few friends in Texas, even though I didn’t visit Paris (Texas).
Me, now. Blouse: Brooklyn Industries, Skirt: bought from Beacon's Closet, Tights: Urban Outfitters, Shoes: Etienne Aigner (vintage, from Mom)
I feel a sense of excitement and trepidation as I write this entry. I thought that something as personal as weight was a subject for me alone to think about and that this blog, which is so personal and yet takes a measured distance from my personal life, would not be the forum to discuss it. But then my wonderfully smart and brave friend Laura wrote about her relationship to food and eating on her blog. And even my favorite fashion blogging star, Garance Dore, wrote about her experience with gaining (and loosing) weight when she moved to NYC in two parts: Part 1 and Part 2. If they can do it, I thought, so can I.
I never thought I would be someone who would want, or need, to lose weight. I was always thin, and curvy, yes, but thin. Until I wasn’t. Around the time I hit 25 and started spending more time working at a desk things started to change. I gradually noticed I couldn’t fit into pants I had worn in college. My beloved vintage dresses didn’t button any more. Quietly, I gave these things away, figuring they didn’t match my style anymore anyways. Besides, I told myself, I was active. I biked to work several days a week and swam laps regularly, took dance classes, did yoga and pilates and, being a New Yorker, walked far and often. While I was raised not to weigh myself and still don’t own a scale I noticed that even when I was swimming four days a week the scale at the gym was stubbornly stuck at 155. It says I weigh 130 on my drivers license.
Me, February 2011, 156 pounds. Dress: Brooklyn Industries dress and Ellips shoes.
“Oh, well,” I thought, “This is how things are, you get older and that’s it.” I noticed that I had to buy larger sized clothes and kept that fact to myself. I felt powerless. No one around me, not my friends, partner or family, ever said anything about my changing size and shape. I credit them with being supportive of me no matter how I look. However, I felt long from the person I wanted to be, or knew that I could be. I didn’t fully recognize myself in pictures and felt uncomfortable about shoving myself into my jeans that were progressively harder to button.
Me, now, 136 pounds. Dress: American Apparel, tights: Hue, Shoes: Dolce Vita
Last winter I started to reflect on the fact I would be turning 30 in May. I wanted to change many of the things that I was unhappy with in my life and set its course for the direction I wanted it to go as I began my next decade. I decided writing and being happy with my employment were two of my main goals. In the back of my head I also decided I wanted to loose weight. Two of my friends from my old job had gone on Weight Watchers to amazing results. They loved the program and sang its praises. I looked at the website, almost signed up, and decided, no, I could lose weight on my own.
As soon as I decided I wanted to lose weight I started to invent excuses why I couldn’t. Some were fairly logical, such as: I work full time and am in graduate school, do I really need to put the extra pressure of weight loss on top of everything else I need to accomplish? Other excuses were a little more ridiculous: I’m too European to worry about weight (excuse me, Eleanor, for all your airs you were born and raised in the USA), to “I’m too much of a feminist to go on a diet.”
Remember, I grew up with Riot Grrrl and “Riots, Not Diets!” was a popular slogan. And to this day I do believe that the way women are made to feel about their bodies by mainstream society is ridiculous and unhealthy. Everyone should decide what health means to them, and how they want to feel comfortable in their own skin.
One of my favorite songs as a teenager was by a beloved-by-me Scottish Indie pop band Bis. The song was called Monstarr and the lines that stick out to me are “I cannot be normal because I’m not a size 10? Should I be embarrassed, is it such a crime? Funny how your life depends upon your waistline!” The singer, Manda Rin, also wrote about being a feminist and loosing weight in her zine, and how she could feel positive about her body and health decisions while supporting other girls in theirs.
It was going on a lovely holiday to the Caribbean with SMH and seeing pictures of myself in a bathing suit that pushed me beyond the excuses. I looked at those photos, horrified. “That cannot be me,” I told myself. It wasn’t that I looked so overweight, it’s that I didn’t look like myself. Something had to change.
I borrowed French Women Don’t Get Fat from a supportive co-worker (the title of which I know will make many of my French friends laugh) and found it surprisingly well written and full of sensible advice about eating less and enjoying life. I also found it difficult to muster the willpower to follow the advise. In despair I found myself eating a butter croissant almost every morning, and a huge lunch, followed by a snack before class and then a snack and dinner after. I was panicking about being hungry, especially on days I had school until late. I could not leave the house without taking piles of food with me. This was not a recipe for success.
Finally, while Corita was mixing our record, I shared my feelings with Marisha, one of my beloved bandmates and a lifetime Weight Watchers member. I tried the “I’m too feminist,” excuse on her and she set me straight right away. “I’m a feminist, I’m a lifetime member, sign up,” she told me. I did, right there in the recording studio. Marisha also told me about Bitch Cakes, a super stylish, feminist, femmey lady who rides a pink bike in high heels and is also a member of WW. Sweet.
I was really nervous about my first Weight Watchers meeting. Who would be there? Would they be nice? Would it be awkward? Would I have to share? I went to a meeting near my work on my lunch break. I weighed in, signed up with the sweet receptionists, and picked up the weekly circular, which is full of good advice and recipes. I looked around. The group was mostly women, for sure, but women of all ages and some men too. Super diverse, a range of ages. Immediately I felt comfortable. This could be fun. This could be possible.
I began to look forward to the weekly meetings. They are so focused on being proactive and taking control of your life and your health, managing your expectations and being kind to yourself, as well as daring you to try new things that they really felt like cheap therapy. I could see that it wasn’t just marketing hype: Weight Watchers teaches healthy habits and takes a holistic approach.
The first time I stepped on the scale and found out I lost weight I was amazed. I never thought I could do it. When I lost my first five pounds Mel, my meeting leader, told me to go to the grocery store and pick up a 5 pound bag of carrots – that’s how much weight I had gotten rid of. Next time I was at the co-op I gave it a try. 5 pounds is a lot to carry around!
Me, now, 136 pounds, in a new pair of pants, size 28! First time ever! Brooklyn Industries blouse, Urban Outfitters slim jeans, Swedish Hasbeens shoes
I’ll admit it, the first month or two was really tough. I felt resentful that things I loved, such as croissants, bagels, cheese and pasta, had to take a back seat in my life. I had to watch how much I drank on the weekends and switched my morning low-fat yogurt to non-fat yogurt. I looked at other women who seemed so much skinnier than me and yet chowed down on sandwiches for lunch and felt resentful. I had momentary freak outs looking at restaurant menus. But I stuck with it. I remembered a piece of advice I read somewhere in the WW materials, “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.”
While I had to adjust my eating habits (and as you know, I love food) I feel lucky I didn’t have to learn how to cook and eat healthily. I was raised eating salads, lean protein and whole grains. I share a kitchen with an amazing and sensitive cook. I was already active and I made a point of sticking to my activities. But WW also pushed me to try things I never would have otherwise. I learned how to run (and like it) from my amazing friend Emily Kramer as part of her Spirit Boxing workshop (I never thought I would ever run for exercise, much less sprint up the hill in Prospect Park with a bunch of other awesome feminists and queers!). I pushed myself to workout when I was traveling for work. And I learned to be satisfied with less food. “Why do I want to eat this?” I would ask myself, “Am I tired, bored, or really hungry? Could I eat a piece of fruit instead?”
It worked. I set my first goal as to loose 10 pounds – from 156 to 146 (which was also the top of my healthy weight range for my height). When I dropped below 150 I couldn’t believe it – the first time in how many years? I reflected on what I looked like and how I felt and thought, let’s try for an even 20 pounds. Then I’d be well within my healthy weight range and also I thought keep enough meat on my bones to look healthy on my broad shouldered/broad hipped frame.
Here’s where I admit to something else: I took my time with the plan. I started at the end of March and now, in the middle of October, I’ve met my goal. But, as they say, slow and steady (and gaining a few weeks and then eating well and exercising with renewed motivation the following weeks) wins the race. My muffin top disappeared. I recently had to buy new pants because my old ones were too baggy. My dresses fit me better than they ever have. I feel lighter, freer, more comfortable with myself. Most importantly, I did this my way with the help of a structure that encourages health and balance and self-knowledge. You read this blog, you know me. I love regional food specialties and a good cocktail or pastry, but I also know to keep it more in proportion. I also know: no more excuses. If I can meet this goal while I work full time and go to university, what else can I accomplish? How about that lifetime goal of being a writer?
The ILSSA Reference Reports, a component of the ILSSA Quarterly, are an ever-growing and collaboratively generated annotated list of resources relevant to ILSSA members. The group's founders call the Reports “our analogue Internet.”
Impractical who? Speculative what? What is she on about? If you love bookbinding, zines, letterpress printing, type writers, old Polaroid cameras, and any and all things that have to do with obsolete technology, you will love this project. Impractical Labor in the Service of the Speculative Arts was started by Bridget Elmer and Emily Larned, two artists who are letterpress printers and bookmakers that I greatly admire. It was Emily who suggested I intern at Booklyn, a Brooklyn-based book artists alliance, my first internship in New York. I also worked in Emily’s studio all through college, binding books, scoring and folding CD covers, and sorting type, in exchange for the use of her beautiful Vandercook press and lovingly homemade lunches. It was this kind of impractical labor, and Emily’s inspiring example of how to do it, that made me think very carefully and clearly about what it meant to be an artist and how one builds an artist’s life and balances their life and work.
Set letterpress type for the ILSSA leaflet, What is craft and why does it matter?, included as part of an ILSSA Research Quarterly.
Bridget and Emily’s project/organization is a membership organization that borrows from ideas of a labor union and a research institute and a performance project all rolled into one. I was very flattered to interview them for NYFA Current and I hope you will read the full interview here about their activities.
Also, apparently I’m not the only one who loves this region, because the New York Times just ran an article about the north woods “supper clubs” in last weekend’s travel section!
Killerfemme 