From the editor:
I’m not a writer. I think calling myself one would be an affront to the talent and skill and hard work of people who have and continue to make a living doing so. But what I do like to do is dabble. I would, perhaps, call myself one of the best dabblers I know, and maybe even the best dabbler that you now know, sort of.
Many years ago, I found myself working for a local magazine. I had next to no business working at any sort of media company at the time, and most certainly not writing for said media company (keep in mind, this isn’t Vogue or The New Yorker but a mid-sized city magazine). But I was, and still am, precocious (age is but a number) and hoodwinked the actual editor for the magazine into letting me do a myriad of things.
At first it was photography (I am also definitely not a photographer). It gave me an excuse to get free tickets to local festivals, concerts, and events and get media passes to go one step past the velvet rope. I wasn’t turning in anything that was winning any sort of awards but it was good enough to be put into print.
Shortly after, I convinced that same editor that she should let me also start writing short segments for the magazine. In the same vein as the photography, I really just kind of saw it as an opportunity for some free stuff. The magazine regularly got movie tickets and concert tickets and restaurant gift cards from local places and most of the time they were lost in the shuffle of bigger projects. So I saw the opportunity and I jumped at it.
I can tell you at the time, as most people do, I thought I was writing some really great sh*t. I thought I was smart and witty and was really reading into the symbolism and choices people were making, the flavor palettes of certain chef’s, etc. I can also say for certain that I was absolutely full of sh*t.
But I had a lot of fun. And did it until basically I ran out of time to be able to do it while still having fun. And I still have all of those pieces I wrote. I wasn’t exactly sure where they were but I found one of them and it made me smile.
Here’s why:
- It was a reminder of a time when I threw myself at everything and anything and just tried it without caring what people thought about the results.
- It was a reminder that your brain lies to you. Things are never, ever as bad as you remember them.
- It was a reminder that we grow and we learn even when we aren’t thinking about it or distinctly trying.
So keep hold of your stuff. Whether it’s old sketch books or book outlines or the first t-shirt you ever designed. Hold onto some of it. So one day you can in fact call yourself whatever that thing is, and know that you were doing it all along.
(and for reference, here is one of the first movie reviews I ever wrote featuring an actress turned director whom I had never seen before at the time)
Mistress America
There is that one person we all know that somehow simultaneously does everything yet nothing at all. They are passionate yet passive, kind yet spiteful. They are an enigma, wrapped in a mystery, packaged up in a box that is ten times too large only so that you can keep guessing what’s inside, eventually to still be surprised. Meet Brooke, the thirty-year-old representation of what is the new millennial generation. Insert the dewy eyed innocent face of Tracy, the lost college freshman that might actually represent the end of a generation all about the next best experience or the trendy thing to do.
Mistress America is a new take on the idea of “coming-of-age” flicks, in that it tackles what it feels like to become an adult, and the reality of what that actually feels and looks like. We find Tracy (Lola Kirke) at the beginning of her college career (read: lost and confused freshman who is easily influenced) attending college in New York City. She soon realizes that college, and the city, are not nearly as glamorous as she thought they would be. Enter Brooke (Greta Gerwig) Tracy’s soon-to-be older step sister that takes Tracy on a rollercoaster of a ride through New York City, full of exes, tutoring, parties, spirits (you have to see to get it), and crazy, passionate, dream-filled ideas.
Without giving too much away, this movie has two main characters, two equally important intertwined stories that grow and learn together, and eventually come to see the importance they play in the world and their own lives.
If you are in search of a quiet simple relaxing movie, this may not be the one for you. But if you are looking for something that will make you laugh out loud and leave you pondering your own life and decisions, then Mistress America is most definitely for you. The quick camera angle changes remind you of the millennial generation’s non-stop fast-paced, fidgety lives, where every time we see something shiny we flip our hair ever so dramatically over our shoulder to take a look, only to realize the next best thing is in the other direction. The entirety of the movie will make you wonder if it is modern day or if we have somehow flashed back to the set of a John Hughes movie and the 80’s soundtrack is making it hard to resist throwing a fist in the air. The film dances across difficult life topics with a sense of ease and grace that will make you wonder if there was ever a worry in the first place. All the while keeping you smiling and laughing with jokes about spaghetti and nether regions, or how to compose a tweet to receive the most attention (we still aren’t entirely sure where we stand on the topic).
I haven’t seen a movie like Mistress America in quite some time, if ever. I walked away feeling deeply satisfied and perfectly curious about the tale of a modern-day-faux Gossip Girl and the lost puppy that learns (or maybe teaches) what it’s like to really grow up. We salute you Tracy and Brooke, and we give you two thumbs way up.