New York when it Sizzles - or Burns
some heatwave induced thoughts
People always assume brits are the ones to talk about the weather, but it’s also - second to complaining about our Mayor (don’t screech, kidlets, we’ll get to that later) - basically our national pastime. Becuase I am from the country of New York City. It’s a whole different animal, baby. We were once New Amsterdam, complete with a politician (I feel like it’s peter Stuyvesant, but I don’t remember. Time to reread The Bowery Boys again.) who was a peg legged Pirate, and a wife who was a prostitute, and for all historical record, the man was a feminist because he supported his wife in that work, who was known for measuring her male clients endowments against a broomstick.
SO! We just had our biggest heat wave in a decade, where the temps hit the triple digits. I’ve been listless and unable to do anything since basically sunday with these temperatures, despite the fact that my apartment has central air and is at a lovely 73 degrees. I’ve been playing Cruel Summer by Ace of Base on repeat.
It's a cruel (cruel), cruel summer
Leaving me here on my own
It's a cruel (it's a cruel), cruel summer
Now you're gone you're not the only one
Tensions are high, I feel as if all nuance has been drained from conversations. New York, once New Amsterdam has always been the center of things (although good on you, Los Angeles for really pulling your weight as part of the news cycle in 2025). I found myself after the democratic primary for New York City mayor on Tuesday listening to the Schyuler Sisters from the Hamilton soundtrack (Mostly for, the Revolution’s happening in New York line). But I will never not be OBSESSED with the line, “I’m a trust fund baby you can trust me.”
I’m a New Yorker, technically but also in my soul. I moved back here as a bright eyed and busy tailed eighteen year old about to attend NYU, with dreams formed by visions of gossip girl (OG, Seasons 1 + 2 obviously) and Frank Sinatra and Martin Scorsese and Audrey Hepburn amongst a hundred other things. I moved here with this starry eyed, but simultaneously gimlet eyed view of how I would make New York my own. But I’ve found myself weary of it now, feeling like it doesn’t have that same sense of potential or pride anymore. I don’t feel the freedom in being able to ride the subway or take a cab. I don’t feel the heat of a summer sidewalk at 11pm as sultry, more oppressive.
Regardless of how you felt about this election, and its results, which resulted in something heretofore unheard of. There was something about walking in 98 degree heat at 10am to go walk to my polling place that felt like a particular powder keg the moment before it’s been ignited. It’s pretty undeniable. I’ve had a sinking feeling since last Saturday when the news broke that we had bombed Iran. I’ve always said that this substack is meant to talk about books, fashion, pop culture, media and politics as I see fit, but I find I don’t particularly know how to explain everything I’ve been feeling, and thinking and reading since this administration came into power.
I saw in a debrief of the mayoral election comparing it to Obama’s win - 17 years ago - which made me freak out because on election night in 2008 I can tell you exactly where I was. I was at my high school friend Susha’s house with her parents who worked in the Clinton admin in Los Altos Hills California and they gave us each a glass of champagne despite the fact we were all 17 (and thus hadn’t been able to vote for him yet) I felt such a profound sense of grief at how much time has passed - and maybe the first time I’ve really addressed my own age, internally. Because I do feel thatsince I hit my thirties I’ve gotten hotter and more fun than I actually was during my college years at NYU AND in my 20s. I’m fully in my mid-thirties as of three weeks ago but I don’t think I understood that I’m not “the youth” anymore.
But like I mentioned complaining about the weather is just as much as past time as complain gin about our mayor. It’s an easy topic everyone can get in on. It’s inclusive in a way that should shock you, but some how doesn’t.
But somehow I still stand here. I think I understand this however. I saw a tiktok the was using this song talking about school shootings, and i thought, SOME OF YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOUTH OF THE NATION BY P.O.D AFTER DOING ACTIVE SHOOTER DRILLS AND IT SHOWS.
We are, We Are. The Youth of the Nation.
You know what I also found out in my research for this piece? This album came out on September. Eleventh. Two Thousand and One.
I asked my friend Sara after drinks earlier this week, if this News cycle felt like before. Because I wasn’t a “sentient human” when this happened the first time. I was twelve when American tanks rolled into the middle east last time. It’s hot and i’m tired, and i’m probably dehydrated despite drinking tons of grapefruit perrier and watering my little olive tree.
But the heat makes everything more intense. I don’t know how to alchemize my thoughts. How to metastasize them from that nebulous place in my brain to the page (or in this case the laptop or phone) so that they make coherent sense to me so I can tell them to you? How do I make these vague, unformed impressions coalesce into something concrete? Maybe I don’t. Maybe that’s the story.
But to bring Hamilton back into this substack….
I’m taking King George’s words to heart and getting the hell out of New York. For the moment, at least, and going to London for six weeks, to finish writing my book and have a (last?) hot girl euro summer, while it feels like the world is teetering on a knife edge. What did King George Say again?
You'll be back, soon, you'll see
You'll remember you belong to me
You'll be back, time will tell
You'll remember that I served you well
Oceans rise, empires fall
We have seen each other through it all
Well he’s not wrong in my case. This is a short one because I plan to cover Anna Wintour’s change at vogue and the Fashion of Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez’s very “boom boom” wedding in Venice this weekend (I’m already pissed about the fashion snapshots rolling in) in the next few days.
Ta Ta For Now!
Casey