Fecund Year-End Roundup

year-end roundup

Fecund editors Meg Cook and Hucklefairyfinn on what they loved in 2021.

Meg’s List:

The Last Samurai by Helen Dewitt (2000, reissued 2016)

This year, I read things as if they were passed hor d'oeuvres, instead of sitting down to an entree. I skimmed from here to there, reading tons but committing to very little, picking things up and putting things down at my will. Grazing instead of devouring. This has its own pleasure, but it means that the list of novels I completed in 2021 wasn’t as long as it “could have been.” I was lucky, then, to finally begin Helen Dewitt’s The Last Samurai, which had been sitting on my shelf for months, in late November, figuring it a good idea to end my year with a book much recommended (if recommendations = errant photos of the home bookshelves and -stacks of various women I follow on Instagram). Dewitt’s debut, first published in 2000 then falling tragically out of print before New Directions picked it up in 2016, is rigorous, formally tricky, and deals with all of my favorite topics: The aesthetics of rationality and morality, prodigious youth, the limits of female achievement, the limits of fate and destiny, literary references that I don’t understand but don’t need to, formal experimentation, and lengthy side-narratives. It sort of reminds me of Jeffrey Eugenides’ Middlesex meets Ulysses. I implore you to read it.

Kaitlin Phillips’s holiday gift guide

I love the way Phillips delegates her year-end recommendation list; reading the Google doc is like Christmas party immersion: you make your way around slowly, mingling and savoring. There are recs to fit every situation and purpose: perfume for “hot girls who are really depressed,” beauty recs straight from the Olsens’ mouth, hostess gifts that don’t suck. Reading it is a reprieve, a gift itself. Wanting more? (I always am) Phillips wrote a gift guide for Spike last year, too, and has provided excellent book recommendations in Bookforum and One Great Reader. Venmo her, for God’s sake!

The Store, dir. Frederick Wiseman (1983)

My watch of Wiseman’s documentary, which follows a Dallas Neiman Marcus during the holiday lead-up, was recommended through Phillips’s gift guide by artist Anna Bak Kvapil. In turn an aesthetic feast of eighties decadence and nauseating Reagan-era capitalist extravagance, the film is visually splendid and so, so interesting. I love being reminded that a model’s job, back then, could be putting on couture pieces and walking around the department store’s restaurant, flirting and chatting. RIP department store culture; let’s bring opulence back from the dead in 2022—that seems like the only way to survive. Stream it for free through Kanopy, with your library card.

The Voice, Season 21 (2021)

I had never watched The Voice before, as I think that Blake Shelton has the literal devil inside him and that John Legend is a sad cuck. However, I knew I had to tune in this season because of the new regular host, Ariana Grande, who is the one popstar of which I’m unabashedly and uncritically a stan. It’s nice to have a weekly show on the docket, and her good-faith coaching, deep music production knowledge, and fun song choices brought a lot of much-needed care to the competition. Bonus points for Kelly Clarkson, our best Bush-era export and the only true American sweetheart.

Selling Out Substack newsletter by Natasha Stagg and SCARY COOL SAD GOODBYE Substack newsletter by Meaghan Garvey

I love Substack. Sometimes I can’t believe I can simply pay $5 a month for new, (at least semi-)regular content by my favorite writers, untethered from publications breathing down their throat. I love that they are free to be rambly, tangential, discretionary; a sweet and rare surprise in my inbox. Stagg and Garvey’s are the two I’ve been obsessed with this year.

***China Brain* by Andrea Long Chu for *n+1***

Narrated, fiction-like, from the point of view of her own brain as she undergoes a seemingly last-ditch effort to combat her depression through transcranial magnetic stimulation, Andrea Long Chu’s China Brain epitomizes why I love Long Chu’s writing, because of the ways in which she leans into personal ambiguities re: body, “identity,” and critical approach. The point of criticism isn’t always to arrive at answers, in fact, that is often not the case—and what a relief. Lucky for us, Long Chu just began a new role at New York Magazine, so we will see her criticism more regularly in 2022

Project Runway, Season 1 (2004)

The best season of the best reality show to ever do it. In a year when the Project Runway franchise became an embarrassing display of talentless, woke-scold babies who would rather do literally anything than create fashion, do yourself a favor and start from the beginning. It’s not streaming anywhere, so I recommend checking out the high-quality DVDs from your library rather than succumbing to Daily Motion or YouTube, where you can’t see the designs as well. Good for: people sick of America’s Next Top Model reruns and frustrated with Instagram-based bisexual “fashion designers.”

“A Conflicted Portrait of Linda Tripp in Impeachment” by Doreen St. Félix for The New Yorker

Personally, it’s become too much to be invested in, much less watch, new television shows. I feel paralyzed by the onslaught of new media being produced and compelled by none of it. Everything being produced feels like a CIA psyop. A friend of mine recently asked, casually, what I’d watched and enjoyed lately and all I could muster up was that I had been “watching a lot of Shark Tank.” In this way, I’m grateful for Doreen St. Félix’s tenure as the New Yorker’s TV columnist. St. Félix is one of the few current television critics whom I trust implicitly, as her curation and observation are both critically astute and satisfyingly personal to her own taste. I recommend her review of the newest season of American Crime Story, which ended with a question that sums up my own hesitance to watch the series: “But the show, so far, is also marked by an absence. Where is Hillary Clinton? The credits indicate that she is played by Edie Falco, which gets us thinking about the suffering of Carmela Soprano. But, in most of the seven episodes sent to critics, the former First Lady is just a suggestion, a name on the tip of dirty tongues. I’ll withhold judgment until after the season ends.”

All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version) from Red (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift

Yeah, yeah yeah…we all know how fucking great All Too Well is. (My hot take is that the piano version of Forever and Always from the extended edition of Fearless is actually better, but that’s an essay for another day). However, with the new Taylor’s Version of Red’s much-revered Jake Gyllenhaal-pilled classic, Swift brings, through her vocals and extended production, an air of maturity and looking-back that the original, for obvious reasons, lacked. With this tinted nostalgia comes not sentimentality but a knowledge of Swift’s own subjectivity about the situation, and her own naivete. The best part is the last few minutes, when the song breaks off and becomes a quasi-choral chanting with strange rhyme schemes; Swift knows that her own incantations of lost love exist as the subject, not the “reality” of whatever happened. Nine years after the original release, this almost gothic rendering is Swift’s way of extending her “sacred prayer” ad infinitum, nodding to us that she’s well aware of the ways in which she’s manipulating her own narrative and, in turn, memory, to the nth degree. Did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?

(PS: Is “You kept me like a secret, and I kept you like an oath” the new “So casually cruel in the name of being honest”?)

The Row Pre-Fall 2022 collection

When I think of the woman I aim to be in my own life, it’s epitomized by this collection: Plainly luxe, confidently in motion, specific in use of color, a little uncanny. It’s a little cold outside; I’m on the way.

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Hucklefairyfinn’s list:

Königsforst by G A S (Kompakt, 1998)

Wolfgang Voigt, enigmatic minimal techno progressive, cloaks his identity under numerous aliases, but none outwit G A S, a decades-long project inspired by Voigt’s adolescent experiences taking LSD in his local forest, Königsforst, in Cologne. The namesake of his inspiration is also the title of G A S’ third LP, released in 1998, a manifest of Voigt’s ambition to “bring pop and the German forest to the disco.”

“Wolfgang Voigt: This is a mixed forest at the gates of Cologne: oak, fir, beech, etc., isn't it! A content-rich reference point for my hippie youth to sharpen awareness of the deeper aspects of electronic life: The German forest on acid.”

Though Voigt’s opus is often deemed the release following Königsforst—the deliciously entitled Pop (2000)—the former has one foot further in the club than the latter; the drum is still distant, but pulsating and alive somewhere.

Doris Raymond — The Way We Wore YouTube Channel and “LA Frock Stars” (Smithsonian, 2013–2015)

Vintage titan Doris Raymond is responsible for some of your favorite red carpet looks, and you don’t even know it. As owner of The Way We Wore, LA’s “preeminent vintage boutique”—a fitting description straight from the horse’s mouth—Raymond is a harbinger of the reinvigoration of vintage in high fashion, and as high fashion. Only continuing to gain steam as a destination for celebrity, designer, and fashion insider clients, The Way We Wore also offers more affordable clothes for every day.

In mid-2019, Raymond launched a YouTube channel wherein she spills an incredible font of knowledge on the history of fashion, textiles, and major figures. Pulling from varying decades and designers, all from her own store, Raymond’s goal of enlivening vintage, as opposed to dating it, opens up an avenue for viewers to reconsider their own closet. Occasionally, we are privy to exclusive interviews with costume designers and discussions with auction curators, including the recent auction of Amy Winehouse’s personal estate.

If the casual nature of the YouTube leaves you wanting more glitz, check out “LA Frock Stars,” a show following Raymond and co. that gives viewers a glimpse into the real business of vintage.

Andrea Grossi “Welcome to DeusLand”

I was fortunate to come across Andrea Grossi’s work during his time as a finalist for the 2020 Hyères Fashion Award, at which point the designer had but a smattering of followers and a few exceptional collections under his belt. I knew menswear of this distinction—see: a departure from strappy, subdued streetwear—workmanship, and purported sustainability would take great flight, and indeed, within a short space the Italian designer has gone from recent graduate to being represented by New Order of Fashion and Not Just a Label, collaborating with the likes of Chanel, and dressing Lil Nas X in a toile pannier number for the BET awards.

This is in addition to numerous editorials featuring work from his ongoing project “Welcome to DeusLand”—clothing on the cutting edge of trompe l'oeil that challenges “monarchic, clerical and nazi oppressions.”

“Naked Attraction” (Channel 4, 2016–present)

The most wholesome show on British TV sees a clothed singleton judging the viability of prospective partners based first and foremost on their genitals. As the game progresses, more and more of the eligible partners is revealed, ending with (light) conversation, a reveal of the singleton’s genitals (only fair), and a date involving a Guinness or cosmo, basically.

Despite hyper-closeups of too-recently shaved pubes and all the piercings genitals can take (loves it), the impetus is rather innocent, transparent, and, to a degree, educational (cartoon asides tell you to clean your ass, or how many people in the UK like road head). The range of body types is also surprisingly diverse, and not a point of ridicule.

In its brazenness, “Naked Attraction” is reminiscent of an equally wholesome show marketed as softcore—“The Girls Next Door,” in which family dynamics are explored more candidly than anything with underwear on. In a similar vein, “Naked Attraction” leans much more toward something you’d watch with friends, as opposed to, say, alone on PornHub—where the episodes could once be found in full (in decent quality). Now, you’ll have to use your torrent platform of choice to obtain these gems.

“Adventures of Dama” by Cybordelics (Harthouse Records, 1993)

Trance—and by all accounts EDM—is generally bastardized by indie music reviewers and fanatics, but even the staunchest of the heavy-bassline-averse will find it hard to fault the progression of “Adventures of Dama,” a 1993 release by Cybordelics, a trance outfit housed under the Harthouse label. With its prime operating years spanning from 1992 to 1997 under Eye Q Records, Harthouse embraced a harder, more experimental interpretation of trance—hard trance.

In addition to releases from fellow trance pioneers Resistance D and Harthouse co-founder Sven Väth’s own The Harlequin, the Robot, and the Ballet-Dancer, among other notable inclusions, Cybordelics’ EP Nighthorse accelerated what would become an increasingly fecund space for minimal but harder sounds, especially in Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, and the UK.

Those keen on 8-bit will strap in for the sonic journey laid out in front of them, and even the gaming-avoidant, like me, are easily swept into the fantastical scope “Adventures of Dama” inspires—medieval, galactic, or just elsewhere.

Plain Seltzer

I will not elaborate.

John Galliano Spring 2002 RTW

John Galliano is an explorer, as is the character in his spring 2002 collection. But while muses clad in billowy hoods and sport sunglasses look as though they might shoulder-check you en route to a critical mission, Galliano is an explorer of print, silhouette, texture, palette—of organic excess. Many have tried to replicate his effortless overstyling, but none have achieved it with wit or much sexiness.

Regarding influences, it’s difficult—or unnecessary—to pinpoint a driving cultural point of departure for ss 2002, as a thoughtful amalgam of textures, prints, and embellishments span Mexican to Andean inputs, of course with nods to Japan, and the silhouette and fabrication reminisce on 40s America. Indeed, zoot suits and neckties abound, but they’re paired with bucket hats instead of fedoras or porkpies, and a decontextualized spin on the classic brogue shoe galvanizes the sort of aloof androgyne that defined the early aughts.

The show begins with a far-off, pleading remix of Kylie Minogue’s “Can’t Get You Out of My Head” courtesy of master DJ and longtime Galliano collaborator Jeremy Healy, and morphs into a mystical soundscape with interjections from the likes of Missy Elliot’s “Get Your Freak On.”

With trousers and below-the-knee skirts dominating, the character in this universe—one of vast landscape and rush—is more covered than usual for Galliano—and in many cases bears a single “X” slashed across the bottom lip in black ink. An emphasis on denim, nylon rope, and hardware hint at utility, or at least work, but bear no real function other than to create movement while walking—a function indeed.

SOPHIE “Immaterial” Mashup by Umbran Octo (YouTube, 2021)

Give a gay a hit, and they’ll mix it with Kesha. Following deconstructed club pioneer SOPHIE’s untimely death, YouTube user Umbran Octo earnestly mashes SOPHIE’s immortal “Immaterial” with contributions from Britney Spears, Kesha, Kesha singing Britney, Nicki Minaj, Lady Gaga, Madonna, and 100 Gecs. Building to a crescendo of Kesha’s “C’mon,” it’s the grieving euphoria us SOPHIE fanatics need to achieve some catharsis.

City Pop by Swick Wines

City pop is a musical category describing a movement of Western-influenced pop in 70s and 80s Japan. It’s also the name of one of Swick Wines’ it-bottles for 2021. Though a natural orange wine—25% Pinot Noir, 25% Gewürztraminer, 25% Pinot Gris, 24% Riesling, 1% Niagara—bitterness, citrus, and yeast combine with a touch of sweetness to give it a dry Champagne-like character, at a discounted price.

With grapes grown in Columbia Valley in Washington and Willamette Valley in Oregon, and bottled in Newberg, Oregon, only 200 cases of City Pop were produced for 2021.

Kristen McMenamy’s Instagram

Kristen McMenamy once graced the cover of i-D (before the magazine was put into the Captain America Machine of redundant glut) with a headline that read “Kristen McMenamy: supermodel, or super ugly?”, yet her face never faded. This was in 1993, when gamine and glamour started to morph into something the media interpreted as almost botched. In 2021, McMenamy finally started an Instagram account, after years of being a socials hermit. In fact, in a 2014 interview with Nick Knight for his series “Subjective,” McMenamy, baffled at her own overwhelm, cops that “I don’t do Twitter, I don’t go into Google—I don’t do it… I don’t think people know who I am”, to which Nick Knight replies, “I think they do. You’re incredibly popular on Tumblr.”

Back to Instagram in 2021, McMenamy refuses to take the approach of the supermodel-turned-mommygrammer, instead staging accidents, making out with Marc Jacobs, bearing her nude form as much as possible, and creative directing and starring in what the industry has conceded to be some of the best editorials (or in certain cases, what seem like advertorials) of the year.

All said and done, McMenamy was awarded Model of the Year: Women+ for 2021 by Models.com. This title, usually reserved for a face with maybe 5 to 10 seasons under her belt, instead went to the ghostly, siren-haired McMenamy, shown on the Models.com site in a British Vogue cover shot by Steven Meisel wherein she bores straight into the soul.

McMenamy is no stranger to high art execution or pornography as photography. She once flashed guests—wearing no knickers—at a Versus show in front of Anna Wintour, about which André Leon Talley confronted her, just because she felt like it. Indeed, McMenamy seems not to concern herself with over-analyzing, which only benefits those of us who follow her daily fashion escapades.

To end with a final quote from her interview with Nick Knight, McMenamy shares: “I don't know what is me, but I love whatever is me on the day to be photographed.”