Two Things on Tuesday: Is That Tiny Bag Beautiful?

With the plastic bag ban, I need these, not a teeny tiny purse.

Tuesday is the new Monday, as in, I am dragging into the daylight and can’t find my way to thoughts and prayers or anything. Fortunately, there are at least two pretty great things on the internet this morning.

The First Thing

This is pretty wonderful. If you have free articles left at the New York Times you should read it, or maybe it’s a new month and you get to start over. Basically, someone woke up one day and discovered online that her “Ex”—such a very final way of putting it, surely we can “do better” in 2020, like ‘my antecedent love’ or ‘my foregoing relationship’—was dating Lady Gaga. I must confess, I only recently found out who Lady Gaga was. Probably around the time I first listened to this too catchy and rather awful 21 Pilots song. What can I say? I like to keep up with the times. Anyway, here is the best part of the piece (and really, how providential that the person who first dated the boyfriend of Lady Gaga would be a good writer! If I had to choose, I know what’s better):

The dress was too expensive, but I bought it anyway. Why should I accept less than Lady Gaga? I went to a coffee shop. Did I want a large? Yes. For the event: Did I want my makeup done? I never had, but yes. And yes, I’ll get the lashes too. When I was emailed praise, did I forward it to my boss? Yes. Did I agree to do the work presentation I was anxious about? Yes. Yes, yes, yes. (I haven’t figured out how to start a multimillion-dollar entertainment empire yet, or a major advocacy campaign, but yes to that, too.) The point is, Lady Gaga is living the ambitious life that we keep saying women should embrace. A quote I remember reading from her, probably on Instagram, says, “Don’t you ever let a soul in the world tell you that you can’t be exactly who you are.” It’s so easy as you get older to find the best in who you’ve become, to make the most of it — and maybe even to get a little complacent about it. But if Lady Gaga can do what she wants, and even expand on what she wants, why not me, too? Why not let being “exactly who I am” mean trying to be the best I could be? Lady Gaga continues to challenge herself, to try new things, to thrive.

“Don’t you ever let a soul in the world tell you that you can’t be exactly who you are.” Wow. My mind is practically blown…to smithereens by the vapidness of this cultural creed that is so obviously not true. Isn’t the whole point of the internet for me, and everyone, to tell everyone else both what they should do and who they should be? While each of us insisting that we’re not doing that?

Anyway, this goes back to the question of excellence, and the underlying contradiction that is tearing ordinary people apart. Part one is that you can be whoever you ‘are’ or even want to be. Part two, which roars piteously at part one is, ‘you’re using stupid Instagram filters, you’re not beautiful enough, you’re not Lady Gaga, you haven’t made a million dollars, you’re not waking up early enough to achieve all your dreams.’ Self-actualization is the enemy of contended self-acceptance, but whatever, let’s continue to have both at the same time. I know I’m getting happier every minute.

The Second Thing

If it’s possible, this is even better. Kanye West took his Sunday Service to Paris, and as usual the music is really wonderful. Love the cultural appropriation of Carmina Burana for Jesus purposes. I mean, that’s what Christians do (I’m not being sarcastic here, it’s really great) and have done for millennia. The more interesting conversation at this point, would be about mission, culture, conversion, and the deep marketing genius of Kanye West (seriously, read the article, the writer is skeptical, but also jealous). But it’s Tuesday, and we’re not having the more interesting conversation. We’re going to bypass all that in order to see Kim and Kourtney in some skin-tight rubber material. Pretty amazing in a very different kind of way.

But also, someone else attended the service, someone who makes tiny purses. To quote the article I followed at the link:

On Monday, Jacquemus unveiled tiny new bags — even tinier than their previous bags. “That bag is TOO small,” you might be screaming right now. “What on Earth could I carry in it?” Well: A secret • 2 Xanax • A whisper • A regret • 5 pennies • 3 peas • Air • A small, folded piece of paper with your dog’s name written on it • The perfect, scathing, soul-shattering comeback • A tiny, tiny violin for you to take out and pretend to play when your friend is complaining about something that doesn’t matter (this would be incredibly rude, but also pretty funny).

You don’t have to click the link because there’s a bad word and that was the hilarious bit.

Also, I might have watched the whole video of what I think must be a Kardashian child playroom (without sound, so I don’t know). It’s honestly much nicer than any toy store I’ve ever seen, as well as most houses. If I had been a child in such a playroom, I would have first been enchanted, and then been filled with despondent ennui. The thing that’s missing though, as far as I can see, is a window and light. Is this room nestled in the very heart of the home, far away from the eyes of the house? Maybe the windows are shut. Maybe I shouldn’t enquire too deeply.

Just finished Roger Scruton’s Very Short Introduction to Beauty and, not being as clever as I wish, am going to have to listen to it again almost immediately, as a lot of it floated past me. Somehow, at the very end, everyone did leave me alone and I was transfixed by Scruton’s definitions of desecration and kitsch—and more than that, his solution. The only way to cope artistically, to even fathom beauty in the midst of pervasive and horrific ugliness (he brought up the 1^st World War) is to grapple with sacrifice. Honestly, the whole book was fantastic. But now I have to get up and go yell at all the people. Have a great day!