Sometimes when I do this newsletter I find some smaller topics that are so interesting to me don’t have enough visuals or words to put into a newsletter. Yet somehow putting them on Instagram stories feels like I have more to say, just not the platform to keep posting. Everything I post I genuinely love and search for. I could write 40 newsletters on paparazzi photos, but occasionally all I am searching for is the color blue. At times it’s hard to put into words what it all means. My brain can compute and comprehend a paragraph, but the deep analysis would just be me saying
“There’s so much bouncing around my head and to summarize or make sense of it, I am suddenly incapable. I am doing my best, and sometimes my best is not very good, and I need you to see the vision anyways.”
I am grateful that even in the chaos, most people can see the vision where my words lack. However, I have always wanted to do a search bar where people send in their own photos. I like the sense of community that social media can bring especially in the niche. I am not a celebrity by any means, but the niche community I suddenly find myself surrounded by is everything I could dream really. I love having the opportunity to write whatever I want and write it like I am simply having a conversation. Even if anyone can do that, I still feel a sense of deep gratitude. I am not having an Anthony Bourdain moment, but I do sometimes feel that sense of wow. Maybe this project I did on the subway home from any of the three jobs I currently hold, actually has some merit. In my quest to make Instagram and social media a more habitable and fun place, where we post what we love and do what we please, I have found the good people— or you guys reading. People who just want others to do their best, and who celebrate being here. I have always wanted to talk to people more to find out what they were searching for, to figure out as strange as it all may be what brings everyone else a little bit of joy.
Back before I did not have two viral Wes Anderson spoofs and only 100 followers, I used to post questions to my story and ask people to send in all sorts of things, like their favorite pop culture moments. I would share the answers with my reaction and photos. It was sort of the foundation for which my search bar began. I would always post what I thought first. For example, the forgotten pop culture I have never let go of is during the now defunct Late Late show Car Pool Karaoke when James used Jlo’s phone to text Leo Decap about needing to get out and he responded:
After posing the question and posting my answer, I would share every reply I got. It was fun, that’s the point, and it was collaborative. It had that sense of making something together and not taking things so seriously which I enjoy especially considering so much of my art feels to be on the other side of something. In the scene, yet also out of it. I am a very serious artist, and if you were to go to my other Instagram, I am pretty serious about my art there. On that Instagram, although I have fun in my own way, I feel at a distance from it.
So when I asked what people wanted to hear, I was surprised that I got so many suggestions, and also very intrigued about what other people were searching for. People had on many occasions asked for more expansions on topics I hadn’t made into a newsletter. I decided maybe every so often, we could make a newsletter together. I’ll have to work out the details for now, but the first installment will be a grab bag of small expansions I manage to pull from my own interests, your searches, and completing some unfinished business. It’s a bit like Happy Hour. You’ll get more than you can take but at a great deal. The first Happy Hour has the following Menu
Books aren’t Dead:
I was told photo books were dead, which they are not even close to being dead, in fact, they are alive and well. Everyone is quick to jump to the conclusion that anything regarding print or paper is obsolete. That we have forgone this need to hold things, to keep things, to collect. Photobooks and books in general are important aspects of understanding anyone. The authors and stories we connect with are a way inside our minds. It says all the things we are too afraid to say. So when I hear people moan and groan about how books are only good for collecting dust on any level, then they just don’t get it. There is a level of joy to a personal library. It goes beyond just novels, it’s every piece of print we collect. Books are books for Christ's sake! Believing we could survive without them is as egotistical as anyone could get. You should read, as an artist, you have to read, watch movies, and find art where you can and consume it. You should collect these stories. There is no reason to not read. I hate to put that pressure on people but it’s true. It makes you better. When you make books, when you love books, you get it. People will always declare the best things life has to offer as dead, gone, and irrelevant. The truth is, what they are actually declaring is their own loss. It would be a crime to announce libraries, bookstores, and books at all dead. Yes, the man who told me books were dead was dead wrong. It feels good to have things, to have a collection of objects that give way to what it means to be you. I don’t want the Marie Kando life. I’m not trying to do a haul every day but I think, in the far future when I move onto the next life, there are worse things to leave behind, than a library.
Love Is a Chore Jacket:
Chore jackets are one of the chicest things a person can own. It’s essential to the closet of every human being. They look good on everyone and they do well in every season. It’s an instant hit, like when you put on Toxic by Britney Spears at Karaoke. There is no question in which a chore jacket is not the correct answer, and don’t try to prove me wrong. If my husband were to walk down the aisle of our wedding wearing a blue chore jacket, I’d say I do before I could even reach him.
Grey Toned Worlds:
I very rarely state my opinion like this so fully, I despise black and white just a little. I am not saying I hate black and white photography, I just love color. I love seeing it, I loved editing it, and I love showing people specific colorful visions in my art. I like black and white images too and I know that a lot of the great photographers shoot in it exclusively. I am not saying it’s not good, but I’m not drawn to it the way other people are. It’s just a preference. Black and white photography has different challenges than color, and as for those challenges, I have a keen eye for the latter. The reason I am sort of opposed to black and white is that I find sometimes photographers use it as a crutch for what is lacking in their work. Some artists feel it adds an extra layer that just isn’t there. If you put a photograph in color and it doesn’t do much in terms of emotion, or storytelling, black and white doesn’t suddenly make it good. Black and white is not a fallback, it’s a conscious choice. There has to be a point, and it has to be thought out. That’s what good art is made from— choices. I make the choice to shoot in color because the colors I use play into what the photograph means to me. Like an aura or a mood ring, it tracks what it felt like for me to exist at the time. Black and white is a beautiful medium, it deserves to be respected instead of fallen back on. In his book Kitchen Confidential, Anthony Bourdain talks about people who buy expensive knives to feel like a professional chef and how useless that is. To me, the retoucher’s equivalent is always exclusive black and white shots accompanied by some vague statement about the greats and the craft that deflects from the problem at hand. The truth is that black and white photography is harder than it looks. I am happy to see black and white even though I shoot in color. You can dabble and it’s not always serious I get it. I am not talking about the people who just like it and want to try it. I am however talking to the people who don’t know what they are doing and expect everyone to treat them as serious professionals without putting in the work to get there.
The Beverage of the Season:
This was a fun suggestion, before this came into my mind I thought I wasn’t a beverage person but I realized almost immediately I absolutely am. All those tweets about people getting their fun beverage every day never really hit until now. The first step is always admission, right? These are two beverages this year that completely took over my personality. It has not been a dabble, these beverages course through my veins.
Bone Broth from Brodo (typically the one on 1st and 13th) became my fall addiction. In early November my friend Clara told me about this place and I tried it out and almost instantly told everyone I knew about it. I went to Brodo so often that the woman at the window wished me a happy birthday. Bone broth was just the ultimate fall comfort, I always got the Hearth broth. I got my mom so hooked she looked up their subscription program. It kept me going from October to March, and it took all my willpower I had not to buy it every single day. It was the perfect fall beverage to cure all the ailments (like an early sunset or fading tan).
Olipop has been in my life but never quite as much as it has this past spring. To the point where my friend Nessie and I just basically on and off buy it for one another as surprises. I go for the vintage cola and she goes for root beer. Everyone knows about Olipop now, but if in my natural state of talking about my obsessions find someone doesn’t, I book it to the grocery store and hand deliver the delectable thing to the people waiting. I love it to a fault. I know it’s a probiotic so in some ways it’s supposed to be healthy. Obviously, the science is lost on me. It tastes so good that if you told me it’s as bad for you as a pack of cigarettes, I’d still drink it.
Leaning into what you like:
I sort of wrote about this topic when I talked about being bad at things and doing them anyways. The message can be applied to everything. Doing something because you want to do it, is enough reason to try. I recently posted a Tiktok of the outfit photos I took before I became someone in between an influencer and a normal person. Before I started documenting my outfits I was embarrassed to look like I cared so much about myself. That I thought my outfits were worthy of a post. I felt I had to disguise my own desire to show people what I wore. I was afraid of people thinking I took it too seriously, and I believed myself to be something of a budding icon. Even now being called an influencer makes me feel strange because I don’t really care if I sell anything, I just like talking about things that I like. Then and now the truth always was I just wanted to document my outfits because I liked them. I only had 100 followers on avawillyums back then and I think four of those accounts were my own other accounts. I didn’t think I was Alexa Chung by any means. On that same video, I was asked how I transitioned to where I am now. The answer had been that eventually, the weight of doing what I wanted was greater than the idea of what other people thought of it. That’s how it always should be. My best friend once said that if you’re passionate about something, it shouldn’t be embarrassing to tell people about it. It’s a philosophy I live by now. Sometimes I still have to work up the courage but there’s rarely a doubt anymore, I encourage you to do the same.
Staying you (in relationships):
The person who suggested I write about this was asking me my thoughts on being yourself in a relationship. Not changing. I think we all have the habit of conforming just a little on a first date. But I try not to adjust myself too much to match someone else’s vision. If you want a cool girl, that’s not me and I won’t put on a show for you because you ask of it. You’re dating someone, you’re seeing someone, you’re potentially in love. You are not cast in a rom-com, you’re not playing a role. We should let go of the need to be what someone else imagines of us. That approval you seek will never really come. You should let go of this idea that whatever it is you’re hiding is somehow a dealbreaker and if, by chance, it is a deal breaker to the person you’re with then they aren’t worth your time. It’s easy to find ourselves agreeing for the sake of agreeing or keeping quiet about what we believe or having an opinion. But try it sometime. Disagree with the person you love and watch as the world doesn’t implode. People like you, talk to you, ask you out for who you are, not for who you think others want you to be. Your significant other isn’t the director of your life, and you are not the actor born for the role. Don’t get me wrong I’ve done this! I look back on myself and think what an idiot. I only did it once, but the moment I started to be myself was the moment it all felt easier. I was not so calculated, I didn’t have to think so long about what to text. I was surprised to find he agreed with me a lot in what I was just blurting out and that my strong opinions were welcomed. This is why I never understood why people treat relationships like the old ball and chain, like a trap or something. When you’re with someone who likes you as you are you can stop tap dancing for the world, and to me that is freedom.
Saying Hi To Younger You:
You should buy the candy, you should play the video games you want for as long as you want, and you should heal the parts of you that were told the joyful things in life were bad. Being an adult really sucks sometimes and if you need a hostess cupcake because you’re having a bad day go for it. Life is very long, and I think if we can heal those beliefs that the things we want should make us feel guilty then we’ll feel a lot better about being human after all. Life is meant for enjoying, and all the rules people made for you don’t matter. You make the rules for your own life, and it’s your duty to live by them. We also have big things to heal, it’s more than just eating candy and wearing what you want. I know I have to deal with the fact that I get incredibly overwhelmed when I make a mistake. I still believe I am going to get in trouble, put in time out. I once misunderstood a text about a deadline. I was OOO when I got asked where all my files were. I ran home and worked until 4 AM, hysterical over my mistake. My boss said after seeing the email time stamp,
"It’s not worth killing yourself for it” and he was right. It wasn’t worth it. The world kept turning, and the files got done, and it’s okay to make a mistake. I have to tell myself that. You have to do that too. We all have to. We all have to reward our inner child with the things we were denied but we also have to sit down and say it’s okay. For all the times we were made to believe it was not. I’m not a therapist or your spiritual guide. I can’t tell you what you have to heal, but I can cheer you on the whole way.
Stripes Forever:
I talked about stripes before and I was asked to speak more on what can only be, the love of my material life. Someone recently told me they “don’t wear stripes” and in Ava nation, that’s treason. Diamonds are supposedly a girl’s best friend but I could make the case that stripes are. Most people I know love stripes and I think it’s because it’s a very fun way to implement color and a pattern. It’s an easy pattern to utilize and it’s an easy way to just spice anything up. It’s always going to look good. It really does, I haven’t seen one person utilizing stripes in my life and thought
“That looks terrible.”
Because although you may have some preconceived notion that they do such and such for you, you’re wrong. They’re chic, and there’s always a stripe you can use. I find it silly that people don’t wear something because of these rules people made up. Theory can only go so far, and sometimes we need proof, and I mean real cold hard proof. Not to mention, it’s not really about how it looks but how it makes you feel. If you want to wear stripes, but don’t because of rules you once read in Cosmo, then let go of that rule. Much like your inner child, you’re the person making the rules of your own life. You get to decide what works and what doesn’t. People say you shouldn’t mix patterns. Most rules against, are just an invitation to do it in disguise. I refuse to validate someone else’s clickbait fashion article. If it looks good, if you like it before people tell you not to, that’s really the end of it all.
You can incorporate stripes in more than just your clothes. It can be on your shoes or your bag or your tablecloth. If you don’t like stripes on you you can always use it in your surrounding space. It can be part of your energy and not part of your wardrobe. Stripes can be anywhere, and I think people also forget that the things that call to you can be part of anything. Any little tiny aspect of your life, you are free to do it all. So yes wear the stripes, use the stripes, ooze the stripes. But I am not the rule maker in your life either, if you don’t like stripes who am I to tell you it’s a necessity? I make the rules in my life, and I invite you to break them in yours.
Everyone Is Watching Me:
I don’t know what I was searching for when it came to this. A way to cope with the sudden shift in my social media. I was searching for the right words I guess. I had to tell someone what it felt like to go viral the other day. I am grateful to go viral, but it is also very overwhelming. I told them how I didn’t really do social media for a while because it felt like a lot all at once. They responded
“The reward for going viral is freedom.”
It was an interesting thought and very real. I become almost insecure after going viral, because of the pressure to give in to what people want of me. To make a video after going viral and reveal that the person behind the screen will probably disappoint you. To cling onto the 15 minutes of fame and deal. That idea that people won’t like me at all once I am no longer girl on the train. I become a 7th-grade version of myself in some ways, scared to show face. I tend not to care what people think of my social media so the moment I have an opportunity to cash in on the momentum I exit. I started posting on social media with the intention to yes, show my outfits but also to create a more authentic environment. Not to get too preachy, but in turning myself from AW into WA, I become the very thing I hope to avoid. The Wes Anderson thing was such a fluke but I did it because I admire him and wanted to do it, to do it again feels like a money grab. Much like my first ever Wes Anderson video a year and a half ago, I am reluctant to give the people what they are asking for (more WA). I immediately went back to posting outfit videos because I wanted to make clear what I actually use social media for. I love Wes Anderson and say tomorrow a miracle happened and Wes contacted me about making a video, hell yeah I’d live out that dream with the man himself. I am not changing lanes to be a WA impersonator. There’s already a Wes Anderson in the world, and as an artist who only does social media for fun, I have some standards. I’d hate to get famous off someone else’s back and lose my personality in the process. I have connected with some amazing people, and gosh the opportunities have been unreal, but I’d like to be myself again.
New York, I Love You XOXO:
One of my favorite nights in New York ever was after a terrible day. I was on the cusp of announcing to everyone that I was launching the pre-sale of my book when I discovered there were supply chain shortages that would delay the process of printing by God knows how long. It ultimately killed any chance of me submitting my book to the few contests I allowed myself to dream of winning. I cried until I had nothing left in me, and as dramatic as it sounds, was as heartbreaking as it felt to me. I later left my apartment to go to an event with my friend Maria. We met up in SoHo of course and the dress code was all black and Maria was decked out in all color. Neither of us wanted to go but I think the drinks were free so we thought we’d give it a shot (literally and metaphorically). We rang the buzzer to the loft for 20 minutes and to no avail, the door stayed locked. We took it as a sign. Maria is the type of friend you just laugh with, laugh until your stomach hurts and for one brief moment you find yourself wondering if people actually can die of laughter. All that misery I had felt was lifting away as we walked to Avenue A and I wondered if I was on the brink of collapsing from all that laughter.
When we arrived the bar was packed, or more packed than I had seen it previously, especially for a weeknight. We entered and found ourselves stumbling into a party. A zine launch to be precise. We could not escape the party it seemed that night. We ordered our drinks and sat outside. My sister called me to ask when I’d be home.
“We’re at St. Dymphnas,” I told her and she informed us that she was right down the road, so she joined us. It was a wonderful surprise, and we kept talking and we didn’t even really drink a lot because we didn’t need to drink to have a good time. The place was buzzing really, there were a lot of good photos and I was having an unexpectedly good time. Shortly after my sister arrived, two other friends strolled by, I didn’t know them that well but my sister did and they were there for the zine launch but sat with us outside instead of going in. We laughed like they were our oldest pals. Soon enough everyone went pushing inside because a band began to play. I was at the back pressed up against the wall and I couldn’t for the life of me understand what the singer was saying but everyone was dancing anyways. In the middle of the set another good friend went strolling by and came in despite how packed it was and chatted with us before heading home. The band finished and everyone in that bar came pouring out and a girl no one knew, who was there on vacation took pictures with us. We took the photos because we knew we’d never see each other again and in every single one we are just laughing away and throwing our arms around each other, nothing could ruin that moment. We were out pretty late and we talked for hours with all sorts of people and nothing ever felt awkward or insincere. We danced on the sidewalk and we had a good time even though we expected a really bad time. I think that’s the difference, all my expectations were crushed in the morning, and at night when the disappointment was lifted away, I felt a little more free. New York showed me its very best.
I have done a lot of cool things living here. I went to the SNL season wrap party, I have dined on roof decks, and have been to amazing events, but nothing compared to this. Probably because, even though everything went wrong, without rhyme or reason, some cosmic pendulum swung in my favor after swinging out. Instead of wallowing about a delay I couldn’t control, I found myself unexpectedly with 8 good people. There is something pretty New York to me, about running into friends and being shocked. As if this bar isn’t the equivalent of going to my hometown grocery store. It feels serendipitous because there are so many other places for people to be and yet we all managed to find ourselves there together. The night became unimaginably fun because there were no expectations. Everything felt better because I had no disappointment left in me. When I list it all out there it seems a little like nothing, but I think you really just had to be there, and maybe that’s the most New York thing about the story.
Find It:
One of the things every journalist cut from my interviews about my Wes Anderson stint was the real, at-the-core-of-it-all, point. I don’t really care that they did. The point I had stated, was not at all to look exactly like a Wes Anderson movie. But to provide a small sense of joy in the things we so often forget are not forever. Everyone was upset that I didn’t choreograph pans or have long drawn-out shots or good comedic timing. I’m sorry to all the complainers but you don’t get it, and you never will. You’re too literal. You’re focusing too much on the aesthetics and much less on the content which is maybe the most Wes Anderson thing about my video. The video is meant to find joy in a moment where none could be found. I was on my way to my third job, I was miserable, I was tired, and I wanted to be anywhere but there. I feel like so much of chasing goals focuses on where you want to be instead of where you are and that’s what I was doing. I told every interviewer that I didn’t see myself as a victim of the world but I was still struggling to see the point. I hate that mindset. I don’t necessarily want to stay in the horrors of my life right now, but that doesn’t mean I want to miss it either. A lot of my time is spent doing things that only allow me to survive and in those really hard moments, it is difficult to think anything but how much you don’t want to be where you are. What’s the point? I keep asking myself, what the fuck is the point of having to work 7 days a week every week? What is the point is all I ask when it’s 5:30 in the morning and I am riding over the Williamsburg bridge on my bike wishing I was sleeping like almost everyone else. But then a few hours later I am screaming the lyrics to Milkshake in some lower east side bar after work with my co-workers who have become a lifeline, who are also just doing their very best, who are making the most of it, and I am having fun. Genuine fun for the first time in a very long while and I see the point. The point is to be here, the point is it’s temporary. I could get a new job tomorrow, but I’m right here right now and the only reason I am is because I got a third job, and the only reason I was able to go viral and connect with so many people is because of that shitty job and even shitter shift and because I decided to find joy in that moment on the train anyways. Why would I wish that away? Why not find the unexpected joy that is right here?
We all could do with a little momentary joy in what we so frequently find ourselves wishing we were out of. It’s not to say go jumping for joy for all the work you have to do, but maybe the joy is in the coffee you will consume on your way. Take a picture of the sunset, or listen to songs that make you feel like you’re in a coming-of-age movie. Crack a diet Coke after a long day, or do something that makes you want to remember what it feels like to be 22 or 35, or 68. Do your best to not wish it all away. The joy you assume will find you when you achieve your goals can also happen right now. I give you permission to think about the future, to dream of tomorrow, but don’t forget to do the things that make right now good too. It is not stupid, naive, or delusional to find joy where you can, it’s essential. From My Search Bar was founded on the idea of searching for joy, of searching for the point. I was searching for the things I love because I needed to remember the point of being here. Joy is not always easy to feel, but it can sometimes be easy to find and even if it doesn’t pull you out it can pull you away for a moment. So if by chance you do find yourself looking for joy because you need something, you need anything to keep yourself from falling into a pit of misery, please remember that even if you are not wishing for the future, it is coming. This is not forever and that space between where you are and where you want to be is closing even if it doesn’t feel like it. The moment is passing, and there is a sort of joy in this fact.
I wanted to say thank you for your patience. I feel the need to thank my followers and readers because you guys offer a lot of encouragement and grace with whatever it is I am suddenly doing. Going viral was not something I expected and that freefall after was a strange space of time that I found myself trying to pick up the pieces and get on with it. I love what I get to do, I love the space that we all create together because social media is a hellscape but it does connect me to people with great ideas, great insight, and a lot of kind words. The 52,000 people with me or the 100 who were here before anyone else. The people who let me be earnest about what I loved, and who read all the way to the end. You deserve a round of applause, I’ve had far too much thrown my way recently.
The ode to NYC had me smiling!
Loved reading through the Happy Hour section today. I hope it can become something of a series.