How to have a beautiful, romantic, miserable summer
Everything you need to romanticize your high-heat woes
Sometimes you’re sweating through your t-shirt in the wet humidity of a foreign country and you learn your wallet and film camera have been stolen. There’s desperation, frustration, even anger. And then a few hours later, you’re sitting at a kebab shop, and you’re still sweating, but you’re ok. Maybe you see a little humor in the situation, or maybe your Orangina is as refreshing as it needs to be. The next day, you’re walking again through the little gray streets having completely altered your trip. It’s disappointing, sure, but you know how to savor the change in direction. Careful not to trip on the street’s hot stones while you gaze up at the wrought iron balconies that dot the skyline, you might even find beauty in the situation.*
Thousands of young women on TikTok have declared that summer is “a whole vibe,” and they’re right, but not necessarily in the conventional sense. Most of them are referring to summer’s daisy-dukes-and-bikini-on-top atmosphere, which is undoubtedly fun, but there’s a lot more marrow to suck out of the heat and sunlight.
Like a touch of sadness. Heavy like recent SCOTUS decisions or light like watching your friend get canceled online, a little summer malaise can be channeled into something special with a bit of effort. Think of Lana del Rey, who markets hopelessness so well it even feels enviable (“Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine, but I wish I was dead…”). In particular, her single “Summertime Sadness” invites you to look out the window, fix your gaze on the farthest thing you can see, and think about your ex. Oddly satisfying, it’s like tonguing a canker sore.
It’s not always this easy. You could be in the epicenter of drama and humidity and stunning European backdrops — you could be Jane Birkin in the pool from La Piscine (1969) — but somehow it always feels like there’s a screaming set of toddlers in their floaties nearby. With this guide, you can romanticize your sadness just like the experts (dreampop artists and men who go camping alone).
Music to listen to
Lana, obviously. In a similar vein, I’ve been enjoying Naima Bock
Everything and anything Cocteau Twins
Anything you listened to in high school or during a significant relationship
Books to read
I always find myself going back to Southern Gothic classics — Faulkner, Carson McCullers, even Gillian Flynn. A Rose for Emily is a Faulkner short story I like to think about while waiting for the bus.
Existentialism — Sartre, Camus, Kafka — is having a moment online right now, and I’m not unhappy about it. It’s not too late in the pandemic to read The Plague. Simone de Beauvoir’s The Mandarins reminded me that friends once got together to discuss something other than the Barbie movie. Even if you don’t really want to read existentialist philosophy, you can just carry an old copy of Sartre’s The Wall on public transportation and wait for women to talk to you.
Art to tell your Hinge dates about
Seek out “raw” and “urgent” and “necessary” exhibitions, but nothing that requires taking something too seriously. You want to think, and be seen thinking, but not to be stressed about it.
The ideal exhibit is somewhere between the Whitney and a gallery opening in a former watch shop with guys stumbling through wearing “Women Love Me, Fish Fear Me” hats.
What to drink
Vodka infused with fruit, no chaser
Dirty martinis
Malt beer
What to eat
Cigarettes
French fries as a meal
Cold fruit
What to wear
Black, obviously
Something vintage and feminine that recalls another time
Linen or silk bath robe
What to do on your phone
Leave close friends on read
Email someone cold for no real reason
Text something weird to a family member and then not reply
How to spend the day
Cry in public
Dig up photos of old summers
Completely dedicate yourself to a new skill, like learning Cantonese or becoming an expert in 1930s silent films, and do not give an explanation
Journal your thoughts but lie a little bit to yourself
Go for long, aimless walks by a body of water
When meeting someone new, make continuous allusions to “The Incident”
Be like this guy I saw on a bar patio in Marseille who nursed a single glass of red wine for two hours, smoked at least 3 cigarettes, said nothing, did not look at a phone, did not read, simply gazed into the distance, while wearing this little sailor hat, and then left abruptly
More important than written anything above is that you allow, and I really mean allow, a feeling to wash over you completely. Suck the marrow out of it, like that guy from Dead Poets Society said. It doesn’t matter how serious the issue is; you just have to feel it.
Maybe you taste the carnitas you’ve just browned for the dinner party you’re hosting in a few hours, and rather than savory notes of garlic and cumin, the dish is burnt beyond recognition. You think of the texts you’re about to send and take several more bites.
Or you wade through thick air and crowds as you make your way through your hometown’s outdoor music festival, nursing a lukewarm IPA beneath all the string lights, but you don’t shy away from the eyes of all the people you wish you didn’t recognize.
Or maybe you are just lying in bed in front of the box air conditioner, which is on its final legs. Your head and chest are blasted with bitterly cold air, while your feet may as well be on Mars. Your roommate took the nice air conditioner, and you fall asleep imagining how easy their life must be.
Whatever it is, I hope that you enjoy it.
* Yes, this happened to me.
Marvelous