The DM | Issue Fifty
Or the one without further ado
In the time since we last chatted, ChatGPT has continued to gain steam in the internet land. As a professional writer (marketing, copywriting, creative, and otherwise), this has caused me more than a twinge of anxiety. Maybe now is the time to lean into farming? Learn to wield a sword? Have I been watching too much The Last of Us?
Anyway, you know the whole cliche about ‘facing one's fears’, so yesterday I got on the platform and decided to see what it could do for The DM.
Here’s what happened:
Me: Write a fun intro for an article from the substack, The DM.
ChatGPT: Are you ready to embark on a journey through the wild and wacky world of Dungeons and Dragons? Well, grab your dice and saddle up your trusty steed, because we're about to take a ride through the fantastical landscape of tabletop gaming. The DM (that's Dungeon Master for those of you who are new here) is your guide on this adventure, bringing you tips, tricks, and tales from the front lines of D&D gameplay. So strap on your armor and get ready to roll for initiative, because things are about to get epic!
…The moral of the story here is that ChatGPT is still very much a robot and not a replacement for our witty delightful word goo (at least for now). Also, it thinks we all are extreme fans of the game Dungeons and Dragons, and Devon and I are your Dungeons and Dragons Masters. Please do not ever forget it.
Happy to be back after our short stint away. Strap on your armor and join us, please.
From Meg
How to age gracefully
Controversial subject matter ahead. The concept of aging gracefully is a lie.
That’s what my new favorite substack “beauty” writer Jessica DeFino poses in this super interesting article about why we are all so fucking offended by Madonna’s (new) face.
One of her main (of many brilliant) points? We’re supposed to age… but not let anyone see. Lightly touch up your roots. Get regular facials. A little botox here, a neck lift there. Tasteful makeup. Cosmetic dentistry. You get the picture because you’ve seen the picture. Many, many times. When people talk about a celebrity or even a normal woman who is ‘aging gracefully’ (PS imagine this said about a man), they are 9/10 talking about someone who has had work done, but in a subtle, delicate, socially acceptable manner.
Madonna’s face is offensive because she didn’t follow the rules, her work quite literally shows the ‘labor’. Per Jessica: “Both her effort and her desperation for youth are on full display, which not only violates the rules of “aging gracefully,” but violates the (false) code of ethics embedded in beauty culture.”
Regardless of which side you fall on her new lewk, it’s a great read that makes you realize much like Madonna’s obvious work, the topic of aging gracefully is simply a facade for a much larger problem.
Psst, I love all of Jessica’s writing so subscribe here for ‘the beauty industry’s least favorite newsletter’.
Please love me?
Adore her or be repelled by her, my favorite thing about Leandra Medine has never been her style/fashion sense but instead, her delightful approach of articulating big ideas in mic-drop essay format.
Anyway, if redoing your face is about your desperate need for external validation, this piece is about reclaiming validation with the realization that approval from The People in Charge (in her instance, fashion leaders) or even strangers on the internet (see likes, comments on your Instagram posts) is a fool’s errand that has about the long-term satisfaction of a candy bar. Removing yourself from the thing that gives you that validation (a job, a social platform, a friend group, etc.) can give you some serious retrospect. Specifically…
I understand in a much more intimate and familiar and even relieving way now that while I might not be essential to the fashion mechanism anymore, I also never really was. So much of what so many of us do, no matter what we do, seems to get shrouded in this elusive pursuit of status that can easily delude you or me into thinking that we’re more important than we are specifically to the extent that the sense of humor and fluidity that is actually essential to the process of creating goes rigid. Like we start to take ourselves and our work so seriously that we can barely tolerate it and ourselves.
I mean… Madonna! Read this essay sis and then look in the mirror. Was it worth it? Is our approval or lack thereof really worth it? As I separate my own ego from aspects of my life I thought I brought value to, I realize the same. From a creative perspective, I have started caring less and less if people ‘like’ my work and more that I see the value and meaning within it. Though even outside of creativity, it’s also a shift that you can apply in nearly every aspect of your life. And I encourage you to read her piece and think about how that could work for you as well.
Some final odds and ends
Ah, Café Flore. Quintessential Paris, non? Maybe. The Saint Germain-des-Près institution for influencers and people looking to get THAT PERFECT cafe espresso shot has partnered with (Can I say super hot? Doing it, whatever) illustrator Marin Montague to create a limited edition Café Flore collection of his watercolor creations. Like a tablecloth. Or a teapot. It’s cute for sure, and while not my vibe, I foresee a future collector’s item that if it is your cup of tea (ha), is not to be passed up.
Ganni platform sandals because everyone has Birks and Uggs and if this is my gateway drug into 90’s style so be it. (But also these green Ganni slides giving me a double take). Can I haz both plz?
Speaking of feet, can polka dots be sexy? Bc these socks are sexy.
Finally, I bought the Aarke Carbonator for my husband’s birthday and it may be my best gift to date. I still live and breathe a Topo Chico but the time savings and ease of this make me feel powerful like a 1980s Madonna song.
From Devon
Our love fern! You let it die!
Since my brain is admittedly a bit mushy at the end of this week, please allow me to present a few things I’ve read or watched recently while procrastinating something like, oh, I don't know, finishing my taxes:
This oral history of making 'How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days'. The movie turned 20 (what! how?!) this year and it turns out that *we*, the zeitgeist, still agree it’s one of the best rom-coms of the 2000s. Just would have been better if Matthew McConaughey read it aloud, tbh.
Every Architectural Digest Open Door celebrity bathroom ranked
This Cup of Jo article about favorite romantic scenes brought the final scene of Fleabag (with The Hot Priest) back to me. If you’ve never watched or don’t remember, know it’s a moment that is simultaneously heartbreaking, healing, and beautiful all at the same time. A belated apology to my seatmates on my flight from SF to Denver for tearing up while re-watching it.
Color me predictable
I really love all of the hues found in this house remodel / this hotel in Careyes, Mexico / everything this Mexican designer creates / this affordable Sephora lipstick line / and this artist’s sculptures.
It is definitely worth the trouble
TBD on if Mercury is in retrograde or whatever (horoscope girlies, hit me up if yes, would love to know) - but there's been a feeling of change, or perhaps uncertainty, in the air of my world lately. So, for those who may find themselves at a fork in the road or perhaps in the throes of an emotionally nimble moment (like me and my current self-employed roller coaster life), I offer you the below poem from Kate Bauer for a bit of support now or on a rainy day.
And, before you go, here’s what I’m currently:
Sleeping in: linen boxer shorts.
Applauding: the stylists behind actors on the red carpet lately. Can’t wait to see the ‘fits at the Oscars on Sunday!
Making: Odette Williams’s preserved lemons to use in her super-dirty preserved lemon martini (duh), among other things, from her new-ish cookbook Simple Pasta (I also love her book Simple Cake, too).
Listening to: that new new from The National and Indigo de Souza, plus Quantic radio which makes me feel like I'm back sitting on a Baja beach, watching the sunset, with a passion fruit margarita, ordered para llevar, in hand.
Wearing: high-waisted, wide-legged, incredibly comfy pants of my Madewell-loving dreams, in both canvas and black.