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Table of Contents
Hi friends!
Seasons are flirting with change, and I am flirting back. There have been some true fall days this past week, and I have reveled in the warmth of sweaters that have been folded in the same place for months. Other days have been sweltering in ways that make me feel alive. I walked so much this weekend, and I am on the prowl. The weather is starting to cool back into great walking territory, and I’m ready to take more advantage.
I’ve been feeling like a new person every week lately (positive). I am shedding skin, dancing vigorously, eating voraciously, taking up all of the space in the gym. This is exactly what I want the end of summer to feel like, and I am riding it out. I have a few weekend trips left in me, and writing about them as I do yields friends at parties to say You’ve really been traveling a lot!
This week, I went to my friend Basilio’s gender reveal party (as in his gender — I haven’t seen a baby in weeks unless I’m looking in the mirror), bowled with bumpers on, and Bushwick bye-bye bar crawled for my best friend, hit the dance floor first, and watched Notting Hill for the first time. Now that’s a great romcom. Weird thought: Julia Roberts and Zendaya kind of look the same to me. Maybe it’s because they are both two of the most beautiful women to hit the screen.
On many of these outings, I donned what I — in my great fashion authority — think is the trendiest garment for city girls this summer.
Bandanas have taken over summer 2025
I am obsessed with this bandanaissance. I don’t think bandanas were ever particularly out of fashion, but I am seeing them on multiple heads in every L train car. Real Gentrifier Olympicheads may recall my plea for all of the pretty girls to tell me where they’re getting them because I keep cycling through the same one or two.
Since then, Meera bought a bundle of a few. They have a cowboy vibe and are all different colors with patterns like sunsets and cacti. I love channeling my inner Lone Ranger with them on. Having so many options now makes the world feel bigger.
Meera and I have both noticed in recent weeks that days that we wear bandanas we have more swag. Something about the bandana invites others into our orbit or maybe makes us feel more inviting. We are riding off into the sunset. Yeehaw!
Bandanas are so fun because they can be whatever you want to be. They come in all sorts of patterns, and you can wear them in so many ways around more than just your head. They work for all sorts of hair types, and I love that they cover my greasy roots and accentuate my lush ends on days I don’t want to wash my hair.
They are both hard and soft, like a beautiful woman working her garden (and are worn by that demo, especially!). They soak up your sweat while you exert and are inherently informal, sometimes used as a rag or napkin. They also have a sweet daytime quality about them and fit in the same aesthetic as a large tote bag. At night, they make me feel slightly similar to how clout goggles made me feel freshman year of college when “New Freezer” would come on at DTD, a gimmicky confidence.
I am far from the only girl in my life getting bandana’d this summer, and I haven’t seen one that looks bad on someone. Obviously you have to mess with them sometimes if you don’t tie them tight enough, but it’s a pretty low-maintenance look. I think part of the confidence is because the bandana eliminates the invisible requirement we have to make sure our hair looks perfect. It’s a lovely shield that allows us to worry about more important matters as our long locks billow out.
Is it Bandanaissance if it’s never really died?
Like native plants thriving where they’re supposed to be planted, we have been wearing bandanas for centuries, so it is in our blood that they make us look and feel good. Its predecessor, the kerchief, has been around since ancient Greece and made way for the pattern-centric cloth we love today.
Habibis ha-be vindicated: the paisley pattern of most bandanas comes from Kashmir when it was part of the Persian empire, and colonization spread it everywhere to be associated with wealth.
The first bandana as we know it today was actually made during the Revolution for Martha Washington with a sick design of her husband and inspired all kinds of political bandanas. Bandanas have been used in all sorts of rebellious political behavior since, including during the West Virginia Coal Miners March of 1921, one of the largest armed labor uprisings, which might be part of the word redneck becoming popular.
Bandanas have been used in both rebellious contexts (gays signaling things about them based on the bandanas in their back pockets, literal gangs, bank robbers) and institutional ones, too (Rosie the Riveter, brands advertising on them during the industrial revolution, 1900s politicians making bandanas for their campaigns).
Bandanas have always been in style in one way or another, so is it really a bandanaissance? I say yes because I now associate it more with youth instead of its prior connotations of labor or criminality. Young people make old things new again.
I think it also has to do with everyone wanting a taste of Black culture, as the Eilishian tradition exhibits. So much of the oversized and denim-y styles of Bushwick transplants often reflect how people dressed when Bushwick was known as a bad neighborhood. Mimicking Black culture might come from genuine curiosity or affinity, but then it takes over and drowns out a trend’s originators. Non-Black and especially white gay people, for example, often speak in so much AAVE and assume they’re just talking how they think all gay people talk.
So, does my love for bandanas come from the same parts of me that make me a Gentrifier Olympian? Maybe. It’s fun to follow a trend, but it’s even more fun when it’s really something evergreen and everyman the way bandanas have been for centuries. Plus, wearing them adds on at least another day before I have to wash my hair again.
This week’s photo is from one of the only times I took a solo selfie with a bandana. I don’t love it, but it fits the prompt and I was also in a good mood. I was on my way home from a Liberty watch party hosted by the incomparable Womens Sport’s Rally @womxnsportsrally (my friend Courtney runs their socials…great place to watch the game and make friends). The next selfies I would take included Meera asleep on the train next to me, which I’m kind enough not to share but rude enough to mention that they exist.
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Current fixations I want to mention
Food & Drink
ilili has been on my list for at least a year, not just because the name is way too fun. It’s a Lebanese restaurant that already exists in D.C. I’ve been wanting to go with Meera and see if it’s worth the hype. Not only did I love it, but it is also Lebanese Girlfriend Approved. The majority of Lebanese food I have is in informal settings, so I jump at the chance to eat it somewhere sexier. The only other romantic, sit-down Lebanese spot I’ve been to in the city is Huda in Williamsburg. I love both Huda and ilili, and both of them match the boroughs they’re in. Like Brooklyn, Huda is more experimental and bespoke; like Manhattan, ilili has a plethora of options for everyone. In a city of little dining nooks, this grand, swanky spot feels like it has unlimited space. The menu is massive and overwhelming, including dishes that fall all over the spectrum of westernized taste to OG Lebanese dishes. They also have a hulking wine list that we ultimately ignored in favor of cocktails that piqued our interest. Arak is a Lebanese liquor that’s kind of like ouzo, so I got the Sunset in Batroun, which is a spritzy drink based around arak limoncello and fused with summery fruity flavors. Meera got the waraktini, which is so Lebanese it has grape-leaf gin and olive oil. Both drinks were the perfect way to tread lightly into this meal. For mezze, we shared tabouleh (not really my thing but I know that it’s yummy and came in a deep bowl) and cauliflower on a bed of tahini. We also had pita that came in poofs to dip in baba ghanouj — all just a fabulous way to get into eating. For our entrees, we shared two meaty wonders: the most sophisticated lamb shawarmas I’ve ever seen and a bowl of chicken, spiced to perfection. As if we couldn’t ascend any higher, we got knafeh for dessert. Meera has been on the prowl for this knafeh sandwich that doesn’t seem to exist in New York, but this dessert had a side of small sesame bread that allowed us to make mini versions of it. This is probably the closest she will get to having it here, so it was special and delicious. Overall, I had the best time here (aside from long waits from our server) and suggest it as a date spot or special dinner for your friends, maybe six people max.
Music
As summer begins to walk out of the party, I am trying to turn the heat up. Tyla makes music for baddies. All of her songs are all about being sexy and confident. It’s almost never a question of are you into me? but instead a statement of I know you want me or even questioning When are you gonna make a move? All of her music feels like you’re on an island or at least near a beach and definitely at a party. It’s simple, fun, and hot. I like that her music is so mainstream because then I get to hear it all the time. I am enjoying her latest EP and am most obsessed with “IS IT” all about — you guessed it — seducing someone at the club. I have started hearing this song out in the world, too, and need that to continue.
Internet & Pop Culture
I am not a teacher, but I frequently end up on teacher TikTok. As back to school season commences, I am thoroughly enjoying videos from Mrs. A. She is a kindergarten teacher, and each of the videos are scenes out of a school day, only they are portrayed in skits with adult teachers acting as kindergarteners. Hearing Mrs. A’s perfectly sweet but stressed tone dealing with all of the students’ antics just sends me into orbit. I think it’s so funny. I don’t think this is the kind of creator I usually like, but something about watching her handle “kindergarteners” is something I could watch forever. It’s also a reminder of how much teachers deal with and how odd children are.
Television & Maybe Movies
With The Naked Gun out as well as Liam Neeson x Pamela Anderson cuteness, Netflix is trying to feed me the doc Pamela, a Love Story again after I tried watching it when it first came out and didn’t really care. I’ve watched it in 15-20 minute intervals over the past week or two while I eat lunch and had the loveliest time. I remember this being really buzzy when it came out, so I’m probably not saying anything new. I also didn’t really know much about her because I wasn’t very sentient during this cultural era. She is everything, and I am obsessed with her. She is the truest lover out there — more than anyone in the world maybe — and inspires me, as someone who often worries they love everything too hard, to love the hardest. She dives headfirst (get it? Baywatch) into everything she does and really is the image of passion. I’m also obsessed with her PETA and Julian Assange-related activism. I adore how much she journaled and videotaped everything, and I think the doc shows her to be a really smart person despite what peak paparazzi misogyny wanted you to think. I really loved watching her scenes at the end rehearsing for her run as Roxie in Chicago, and her I’m in my 50s — why not try something new while everyone else is settled down? attitude reminded me of my mom. It’s wild how much the doc goes over how her sexuality was exploited and people didn’t see past her physical form, yet hearing her tell her story just made her that much more attractive. Like am I supposed to leave this documentary wanting to show her love or does that make me an f-boy? Whatever. Sorry.
Journalism & Literature
Sometimes I need a lot of convincing to take a recommendation. Other times I see the most benign Tweet ever that immediately compels me to acquire I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman. Apparently this was a BookTok fave earlier this year? I wouldn’t know. TikTok doesn’t know that I can read. The narrator never gets a name; she is referred to as the child by the 39 other women she lives with in a huge prison cell that none of them remember how they got to or how long they had been there. The book is pretty bleak, but I am happy I read it. There are no chapters, and it’s easy to finish quickly at around 160 pages. If it were any longer, I don’t think I would like it. I like the philosophical questions it brings up of what a person is like when they’re completely deprived of culture. I originally thought the book would be gay, which is why I chose it. I was sort of wrong. It could be much gayer, but this was published in the ‘50s by a woman who escaped the Holocaust. It was a great weekend read, but I probably wouldn’t have loved it as much if it lasted any longer.
Something I Saw in the Wild
I’ve been slacking in the long walk department lately, so I jumped at the chance to walk from Bushwick to bowling in Astoria with my friend Christina. I’d never been to Astoria Park, so we stopped there first and rested in the grass while marveling at Robert Moses’ empire: the Triboro Bridge, Randall’s Island, and the ever-enticing Astoria Park pool. It was a utopian New York summer Sunday, complete with cute kid birthday parties and old people chatting on benches. As we walked out of the park, we saw someone walking and holding their pet: a little bearded dragon. Even dragons need time at the park.