This is not really a gift guide but me slapping myself for all the times I bemoan “not having space to hone my craft” as a writer-editer working in commercial orgs. you write a newsletter dumdum, your space, your rules.
The problem is that not writing about work is harder than writing about work. It’s harder to start a newsletter referencing Yeats instead of AI. It’s harder still to measure how that approach sustains a career. But part of my job is diagnosing cultural dynamics that affect performance, not just controlling for inputs and outputs.
So I need my silly literary references, I need to pull at my own pressure valves before the dam breaks through. This edition is really just a writing exercise. But if you happen to have people in your life who share my quotidian obsessions… some consumables below for them.
For the monolidders
Pat McGrath Mothership Palette: $128 (Sephora)
The soft indentations above my eyelids are a rough beast whose hour will never come, slouching towards Bethlehem never to reach the top of the mountain. The mountain is the crease; mecca is only 3mm away. I am speaking of course of another privilege the whites are born with—double eyelids.
Skip to the moral of the story: Pat McGrath shadows are the birthplace of light. They complete the 90% smudgeproof eyeliner sandwich for monolids. (Urban Decay primer, Pat shadow drawn in cateye with Mac’s gel liner brush, traced over and filled in with the Rare Beauty liquid liner with the Japanese calligraphy brush tip.) All hail Queen Pat.
(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡
For the sleepy grlz
Frozen Porotta: $9.99 (Costco)
If you know a sleepy woman who needs to stay awake for the time of twelve songs in dark lit rooms in Gowanus or Bushwick, freezer paratha is the highest order of emergency blood sugar boost that is not too sweet. Take one after dinner.
For the showgrlz
Olive Oil Whipped Cream: Mon3y can’t buy this
I took myself out to write at the marble bar down the street, planning for 1.5 drinks, thirteen olives, one grilled octopus tentacle, and three configurations of cash tip. After I declined dessert J. disappeared behind the bar, came back and endowed me with a pup cup of olive oil whipped cream. Snack before the bill! I break open the fortune cookie to read: No more sad boys!
For the recovering consumer marketers
[redacted]: $21 (Your local Arab grocer)
I bought the wrong fancy olive oil a couple weeks ago. Nice taste, nicer price, a bit of a presumptuous look on the shelf. I made the mistake of choosing curiosity over ignorance, googled the brand and founder. Ex-art world guy with a self-proclaimed ego death. His eyes reminded me of someone I considered falling in love with. How do you explain to a child—art can heal but it can’t save?
For the New Yorkers
Botanical Brothers: $49 plus tax
Flower delivery with juicy copywriting and seasonality that would go for twice the price at speciality shops. They’ve increased prices since I’ve last checked but the business model still doesn’t math out to me. (family money subsidizing beauty for the proletariat? i would not fault it) One fireburst bouquet lasts weeks with the right care; you know how to take care yes?
a heads up to paid subscribers / secret granola members - i have holiday cards going out to you in the new year, as always - lmk if your address has changed!