July 2024
As we head into the thick of summer and DIY neighborhood fireworks displays (and SOS-worthy presidential debates) start to heat up, at Neophilia we find ourselves chewing on ‘Merica’s favorite seasonal buzzword: freedom. We’re dreaming about deeper, more profound and holistic experiences of freedom. Imagine feeling total, inhibition-free naked toddler levels of freedom. To be genuinely unencumbered, uncensored–either by society or by yourself…to take big swings or to put down a burden, an expectation, a judgment. I increasingly wish these things for those around me and wonder, how can we better craft the circumstances that allow for this type of freedom? How can we catch each other in the epic Trust Fall of Life? “For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”* Don’t be shy–get fresh with me. Free your mind. Free your body. Dance like no one is watching. Liberation looks good on you.
*Nelson Mandela
Artisan
MAS - Montreal, Canada
I have seeking hands. I want to pet your pet. I want to touch that cactus. So when I rounded the corner at Renegade Craft Fair and was faced with rolling racks hung with a selection of styles from MAS, my texture-seeking digits couldn’t resist. They’re the kind of clothes you know are going to feel lux before you touch them. Breathable cotton/linen blends, weighty but buttery pique, flowy Lyocell that–oh, yeah–just so happens to be eco-friendly. Founder Mckenna not only hopes her line can help sustain the Earth, but her clients as well, describing her designs as offering a “supportive embrace”. Launched in 2016, MAS aims to give people more (get it?): more choice, more freedom of movement, more inclusive silhouettes for “evolving bodies”. As a former cheerleader, boxer, dancer, and CrossFit athlete, Mckenna’s wish is that we all love our bodies more for what they can do, rather than constantly critiquing them for deviating from what we think they should be. “You’re a fashion designer, but also maybe a therapist,” I joke. Mckenna smiles, her eyes lighting up, as she recounts a story of a woman who fell for a matching lime green tie back crop tank and shorts set. “She said to me, ‘But I can’t wear this–I’m a mother!’ and I said to her, “Why not? You grew a whole person in your body. You have the right to wear what you want.”
The Bogota sweater and Santorini dress are among my favorites, but you can build your own wish list here or follow @mas.montreal.
Outdoorsy
The Alpine Slide - Park City, Utah
Without ever really trying, I’ve ended up in Utah three times. Most recently, I found myself watching a meteor shower on a mountaintop with JJ Abrams. But that’s a story for another time. I’m here to talk about the Alpine Slide. I was a rising eighth grader at the time, tagging along with my pal on her family’s vacation. We saw moose crossing the road, I bought a necklace in a silver mine, and we rode horses through the non-snow-covered summertime peaks. As a kid who never went to sleepaway camp, it was maybe the longest I’d ever been away from my parents. There was a new sense of autonomy percolating…and then came the Alpine Slide. Adrenaline was already beginning to pump through me from my inaugural ski lift ride as we reached the loading zone. I was high on landscape views, and probably altitude. I did grow up in a valley, after all. Just a few years prior, the Olympics in Lillehammer had solidified my fascination with all things Winter Games. As I sat on a small rolling cart, clutching a hand brake joystick and staring down a winding cement bobsled style halfpipe I could almost hear the cowbells cheering me on to victory. “You control your own speed,” they told me. Music to my 13 year old ears.
PS I went fast. And you can too. Although now you have to be 16 to drive. RIP 90’s rules.
Culinary
Høst - Copenhagen, Denmark
24,190 steps, the Little Mermaid Statue, a storm followed by a rainbow…we weren’t fully sold on Copenhagen until skipping carefully through a barrier of sidewalk construction and entering the sanctuary-like dining room of Høst. With soft, warm lighting illuminating white brick and ample indoor greenery (which frequently finds its way onto the nature-inspired plating), the ambiance invited hushed tones and a release of shoulder tension. We were met with quenelles of (curiously addictive) wheatgrass butter and that signature Danish brand of authoritative but gentle hospitality that makes it easy to give yourself over to capable hands. The food was precise, but unexpected, with textures and subtle flavors layered into artful, yet somehow unpretentious, compositions. A between-course “surprise” of a little sophisticated sippy cup of herbed broth added a touch of whimsy that warmed the belly and our spirits. The goal of Høst is to fuse the rustic and the elegant into an idyllic dining experience inspired by the local harvest. With perfectly paced service, vegetarian options and wine pairings, all made to look effortless, this gem ticks the boxes. What’s more idyllic than being well cared for, and well fed?
Booking a summer reservation? I need a full review of the scallops with green strawberries and horseradish (with optional caviar add on). Read the full menu and book here.
Community
Rael San Fratello - Oakland, California
In 2017, 81 years after the Bay Bridge opened, its final two piers were imploded, signaling completion of the $281 million demolition project. Back in 2009, the architects and designers at the Rael San Fratello atelier were already imagining ways to repurpose the structure. As a Bay Area native, their visions of lushly planted gardens swirling in fog, and hikers making their way through recreational areas once packed with bumper to bumper traffic make me sigh an oh-what-could-have-been sigh. Ronald Rael and Virginia San Fratello, who met as graduate students at Columbia University, are the kinds of makers and dreamers perpetually a couple steps ahead of what the world is ready for. When they do get the chance to manifest their plans, transformational magic often follows. Cue footage of their iconic neon pink teeter totters, piloted by giggling children, perched precariously balanced between slots of the imposing US/Mexico border wall. Both from rural backgrounds, the pair share a deep love of the earth and traditional crafts, paired with a fascination with new technologies. Rael lives in an adobe house built by his great-grandfather. San Fratello spent a recent sabbatical from San Jose State University to seek inspiration in the Arctic landscapes of Greenland and Iceland. And when they’re not doing all that, this dynamic duo is working on pioneering the first 3D printed brick. No biggie.
“We say screw context, embrace place, put design first, be the opposition, keep one foot in the past and let the other flail around crazily, play, have fun and take on more than we can chew.” - Rael San Fratello
Live Performance
The Spotted Cat Music Club - New Orleans, Louisiana
It’s 11:00 on a weeknight. This particular cash only dive bar is at standing-room-only capacity, but we managed to perch ourselves on elevated bench seating along the back wall. We’re sipping well drinks out of soft plastic 8 ounce cups, tinged aqua under the lights of a neon Blue Moon logo, and sweating under ceiling fans doing their best to combat the early summer humidity. This is the sorcery of culture–to transcend trends or temporary, commodified notions of “cool”. Authentic culture, and the desire to get a little taste of it, is what has redirected an intergenerational crowd away from Bourbon Street and the French Quarter to locals-approved Frenchmen Street in Faubourg Marigny, and eventually to the crowd eagerly gathered around the tiny stage at The Cat. Where else but here could a tall drink of water in a straw fedora letting loose on a jazz clarinet be met with whoops of appreciation and thirsty smartphones held high to capture the magic? Relinquishing our coveted seats, we spilled back into the street, where a brass band led a mini parade of disciples, drunk on jazz, hurricanes, and that quintessential NOLA je ne sais quoi.
Follow @spottedcatmusicclub for weekly lineups.
Fine Art
Vivian Mier: Unseen Work - through September at Fotografiska, NYC
A self-portrait that is only a shadow. Chicago, 2007: a storage locker belonging to this enigmatic figure was auctioned off due to delinquent payments. Inside was a treasure trove. The over 100,000 negatives spanning five decades of post-war era street photography was the work of NYC born nanny Vivian Mier, who had intentionally withheld her work from public consumption (even by her personal friends) during her lifetime. Mier is described as a Mary-Poppins style figure in a signature uniform of a floppy hat and men’s shoes. She was intensely curious, intelligent, opinionated and independent, traveling solo to multiple continents throughout the 50’s and 60’s. Above all, she is described as “private”. Her oeuvre reinforces this moniker, while pushing back against any preconceptions that she was aloof, or detached from life. The moments she captures are often exceptionally intimate–a child’s bright eye peeking through the knot in a log, or a square of negative space in the woven strips of a lawn chair, fingers interlaced behind a back, fondling the hand of a lover, or the end of a cigar. There’s humor (a no parking sign on the edge of nowhere) and a poignant appreciation of life’s joys and struggles. Reading her work as the visual diary of one with poetic sight, the anonymity she cherished asserts itself not as an eccentricity, but as an admirable and liberating nod to living life on one’s own terms.
Fotografiska has beautifully curated its two-floor retrospective, (I almost never say this, but read the gorgeous wall text!) but it left us wanting more. Snag the latest collection of Vivian’s never-before-published color images, on sale courtesy of one of our fave museums!
Page Turner
All The Women in My Brain: and Other Concerns - Betty Gilpin
I devoured this book in two bites–the second an enormous, fever-and-worry fueled mouthful. My cat had spent the previous 24 hours not being able to keep food down after hacking up a pair of hairballs. I had taken an ill-conceived laxative and was up half the night. Betty would have turned the whole scene into an immaculate metaphor. She would have delighted in it. Not because she has it out for me (if only I was cool enough to be her nemesis), but because it was raw. This rawness/realness/wildness is a quality I look for and so rarely find in art, and it’s on display gorgeously throughout this memoir. Bless the editors for not polishing her into submission! The result is a confessional, but not self-indulgent, hyper subjective yet highly relatable sinful dessert of a book. An absolute must for any woman who is, or has ever been, an actor. Side note: if you’re like, Betty Gilpin Who(?) your summer homework is to watch her in GLOW and Mrs. Davis. Trust me, you’re going to want to hear this book in her voice for optimal appreciation of the clever, witty, wacky, sensitive, wry, and heartbreaking way her beautiful brain works. Well done, Brain Women. Carry on.
Want to hear it in her actual voice? Strap in for 8 hours and 12 minutes of what I imagine to be sheer joy.