The Weekly Spill #36
standing on the shoulders of unhinged female characters
Happy Friday, divas! Long time, no see as they say. It’s been a wild few weeks, but I’m finally back with a lot of beans to spill. I don’t want to yap too long before getting into it, but I need to get something off of my chest: we are sending Katy Perry to space on Monday and not enough people are talking about it. With that said, here are all of the things currently bouncing around my brain:
Eve Babitz’s letters: I was browsing the NYRB Classics site the other day, and just happened to stumble into the news that they will be publishing a collection of Eve Babitz’s personal letters in November. I don’t know why they just quietly added this to the list of upcoming releases with no press, but I knew I had to alert my fellow Babitz divas asap.
MAYHEM: I would say Lady Gaga is back, but that would imply that at some point she left. Idk about you, but my paws have been permanently up, and they will be staying there. I’ve been listening almost exclusively to the album since it dropped, and I am very excited to see her Coachella set. (On YouTube obviously… actually going to Coachella sounds like a nightmare.)
Happy belated Women’s History Month to Eve (of biblical fame) you would have loved Garden of Eden by Lady Gaga.
Sheila Levine is Dead and Living in New York by Gail Parent: If there was a lab of people crafting a novel specifically for me, this might be it. A tale of a single gal’s hijinks in 70s downtown New York written in a witty, sarcastic, Nora Ephron-esque comedic style. The book reads like a cross between Bridget Jones’s Diary and The Bell Jar, and it’s most likely the funniest suicide note you’ll ever read.
Meet Sheila Levine, she’s smart and funny, and her mother tells her she’s beautiful. . . . But her skirt’s always a bit wrinkled, she’s trying to lose 15―make that 25―pounds, she just turned 30 . . . and she’s still single. She tries to date and mate, she really does, but disappointment turns to desperation, and after a flash of insight, Sheila calmly decides to kill herself. So she starts to get her affairs in order and writes a suicide note to her loving parents to explain it all Unfortunately, the book is currently out of print (check your library!!), which is a missed opportunity because I think it would be a hit if it was re-released by NYRB or McNally classics. If you work in publishing, you can have this idea for free. Just send me a copy of the book.
Note: I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to figure out how I found/was recommended this book, and it remains a total mystery. Perhaps there is a lab somewhere…
Ties: Hot women are stealing menswear in their latest attempt to ruin masculinity and feminize the world, and you’re laughing?
proof that anything men can do, women will do better I’ve been feeling particularly inspired by the western-y ribbon bow ties worn by Bianca Jagger in the 70s (and by Beyoncé recently). The other day I pulled a random ribbon from the abandoned craft supplies section my junk drawer, tied it around my neck, and voila! An instant free accessory.
Diana Ross’s Broadway Medley: We used to just give TV time to superstars to do whatever, and it was perfect and amazing. What happened? Who decided that we were done watching incredibly beautiful and talented divas perform while wearing Bob Mackie creations, because they do not speak for me. I’m obsessed with this, and I can and will not stop watching it.
Why is she dressed as a baby for “People?” I don’t know. Why not?
D.V. by Diana Vreeland: The Forest Gump of the fashion world. I know there is no way that even half of these stories are true, and I simply do not care! Reading this memoir (?) is like being cornered at a party by a fascinating crazy woman. You aren’t always sure what she’s talking about, but you definitely want to hear what she’s going to say next. Diana Vreeland is my favorite Fashion Person™, so reading her riff on random stuff is like a little treat each time I pick the book up.
She is so singular that it can be hard to describe her as anything but “Vreeland-esque,” and her writing style is no exception. Here are some quotes as an example:
“A little bad taste is like a nice splash of paprika. We all need a splash of bad taste—it’s hearty, it’s healthy, it’s physical. I think we could use more of it. No taste is what I’m against.”
“When I arrived in America, I had these very dark red nails which some people objected to, but then some people object to absolutely everything.”
“I have a terrible time remembering exactly when my birthday is. Age is totally boring...”
“Still, my dream in life is to come home and think of absolutely nothing. After all, you can’t think all the time.
“You gotta have style. It helps you get down the stairs. It helps you get up in the morning. It’s a way of life. Without it, you’re nobody. I’m not talking about lots of clothes.”
I highly recommend the documentary about her called Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel. A lot of the voiceover in it is taken directly from D.V. (the actress is very good at mimicking her very iconic speaking style), and you get the added bonus of seeing her work + clips from interviews she gave in her incredibly chic living room that she called the “Garden in Hell.”
you minimalist bitches could never!! Gypsy (and the state of the Tony’s race): One of our greatest actresses in what is arguably the best musical theatre role ever written… exactly. Go see it. It’s magical. It’s what musical theatre is all about. Audra does not disappoint. I’ve literally been a fan since 1999 (fellow Annie-heads know), and I was only born in 1997. So, needless to say, getting to see her live was really special for me. Joy Woods is an absolute STAR. She’s blown me away in everything I’ve seen her in, and her turn as Louise is no different. The way the character transforms throughout the show is beautiful to watch.
Is the Sunset Blvd revival a splashier production? Yes, and it will win Best Revival, but Norma Desmond is no Mama Rose. Audra is still my pick for Best Actress. My prediction is leaning slightly toward Nicole, but that changes depending on the day. I still have a lot of shows to see this season, but it will most likely come down to these two. If you can get a ticket, go see Gypsy. And be sure to look around at your fellow audience members—celeb sightings are highly likely. (Meghan Markle was there last night!)
Parker Posey’s southern accent on The White Lotus: Moving onto another iconic mother… you could argue that Victoria Ratliff is the Mama Rose of The White Lotus. Think about it. Queen Posey, thank you for representing our people well. I feel inspired to thicken my own accent as an homage.
what will we do without her this Sunday? I think hearing this remix in the club would heal me.
On a Parker Posey-related note: I’m tempted by this Party Girl hat. The issue is that I think I look bad in hats, and, despite that fact, I already bought the Moonstruck one.
New York Magazine’s “Legends of Broadway” covers: How many issues can you buy of the same magazine before it’s a problem? Is 8 too many?
I’m so obsessed, I need them all. I will be walking to the closest magazine shop after I publish this newsletter. Fingers crossed!
Sing Sing: This is my personal Best Picture winner. Since A24 decided not to market this film, I will take on the task. God, it’s like I have to do everything around here. Sing Sing follows a group of men participating in a prison theatre group as they prepare for their next performance.
Most of the film’s cast are graduates of the real program playing themselves, and they are all giving incredible performances. I believe that had they done a better job campaigning, Colman Domingo could’ve been the frontrunner for Best Actor. If you are a reformed theatre kid, this movie will make you weep. Sing Sing is a hopeful testament to the life-saving nature of creativity and community, as well as a reminder that arts funding is vital and needs to be protected. Just go watch it.
This picture of RuPaul and Liza Minnelli: the size difference alone was enough to break my brain. I can’t stop looking at it.
They should start a podcast. It would be insane and nonsensical, and I would be tuned in to every episode.
My Boyfriend’s Back Trio: If you immediately recognized this video; know that I see you, I feel you, and I hope your joints are okay.
That’s all my beans for now! I hope you all have a fabulous weekend. My weekend plans include thinking about The Great Gatsby (to celebrate the centennial), working on some exciting upcoming pieces for this newsletter, and not looking at my phone. I’m very cool. Call me crazy, but I’m still stuck on Katy Perry in space—it might have to go in next week’s spill. Stay tuned!
