You are entitled to your expensive gift guide. I am entitled to think a $1000 sweater is stupid af. We can still be friends.
Sunday journal, 11/23/25
I’m currently dressed like a Japanese schoolboy, eating my favorite pastry: the vanilla bougatsa from the Greek cafe near me. It’s a giant slab of flaky phyllo dough filled with vanilla custard, covered in powdered sugar and cinnamon. It’s probably meant to be shared, but the most I can sacrifice is a large bite.
‘Twas a shopping weekend. First I went to the mall looking for a scarf. The one I fell in love with is $180 from Banana Republic and I’m just like, babe, this is Old Navy in a trench coat. Let me know if you have a scarf you really love. Bonus points if it’s in that ‘gilded green’ color. I left the mall with three things from Uniqlo: another JW Anderson boxy Oxford shirt (I have the blue one and picked up the white); a thin merino wool cardigan in black; and this bag, because my current work backpack is slowly killing me, so I’m trying a different style.
Then went thrifting with the fam at my secret Goodwill. The place was packed with all kinds of people, from BBL Dominicanas to fashion boys with shag haircuts and cool loafers. The best dressed person was an older Black man, maybe late 60s early 70s? He was wearing this oversized tan work jacket, cropped black denim, black leather boots with incredible patina, and one dangly earring. He was buying a three-piece baby blue satin suit. Like are you kidding me? I’m taking notes.
There were huge bins up front labeled “PURPLE TAG $2” and people rifled through em, chatting congenially. I couldn’t bring myself to join that party, though. Just watching made me oddly germophobic and plus, I hate any shopping experience that could be described as “competitive.” I left with three pairs of jeans for under $20 total.
It’s officially gift guide season, meaning an eruption of CLASS WARFARE on SUBSTACK. Do you want my take? Here’s my take: It’s fine to say, “wow, I couldn’t/wouldn’t shop like that,” or even, “a thousand-dollar sweater is fucking stupid.” The gift guide entity meets us where we’re at and we are not obliged to receive it warmly. After all, our material circumstances are laced with childhood memories and overdraft fees and vitamin D deficiencies that could be healed by vacations we can’t afford. Complex traumas of varying stakes. So if you can’t handle minor dissent, then maybe you shouldn’t write a shopping newsletter during a recession.
*On the other hand,* I don’t think it’s fair or constructive to call expensive gift guides “elitist” or “out of touch” just because you aren’t the target audience. Do you not wish you made more money? Of course you do! We all do! And we cannot, in good faith, say how we’d spend it if we had it. (Not to mention, spending it on a pricier, slow-fashion gift for another person isn’t exactly some moral affront IMO.)
TLDR: Maybe the real gifts were the friends we made along the way :-D