January + February 2021: Optimism, or something like it
*Happy and sad at the saaame tiiiiiime...*
Good morning!
It’s been a while. It’s funny how in the throes of the New Year scramble, which I forget about every year, I also forgot about the existence of this newsletter. When I say “New Year scramble,” I wish I was referring to an omelet with cocktail sauce that a festive Times Square diner serves for the 48 hours between December 30 and January 2. Instead, I’m just citing the rat race that kicks off the moment working masses return to “the grind” after our capitalism-allotted holiday break. So every January, I burn myself out into smithereens, because I sure do enjoy overexerting myself.
When I sent my last newsletter, it was still 2020, which is strange, because January was approximately 17 weeks long. And in the apparently-67 days since that December edition went out, amid the helter-skelter of the most January of Januarys, I had the opportunity to put together some of the most interesting (to me, anyway) stories I’ve worked on in some time. I found this recent stuff so invigorating partly because the reporting proved to be something of a challenge, but also partly because it felt — dare I say — optimistic, or something like it.
I wouldn’t call myself an optimistic person by nature. I’m idealistic, perhaps to a fault, but I’m also chemically anxious enough to resonate a little too closely with Kacey Musgraves’ “Happy & Sad.” Yet optimism, I try to remind myself, is a practice. I don’t know that evolutionarily, humans are even supposed to feel buoyant about the unknown, especially when that unknown is *gestures broadly at everything* this.
My work involves a lot of upsetting reporting, about the weaning health and longevity of our planet, about the gross abuse of the people who make our clothes. To have the opportunity, then, to speak with those people who are making measured, active progress against those ills, is one of my very favorite aspects of my job.
My first feature of the year was an eclectic story about “retro-futurism,” a movement that presents the past’s vision of the future as seen through the eyes of designers and creatives during the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s. In an extreme sense, this imagination includes flying cars, ray guns, and “The Jetsons.” But some of retro-futurism’s more subtle indicators are also cropping up today, where creatives are clearly craving the kind of escapism that only an idealistic future can provide. “We live in a moment where we strongly feel we need better visions of the future, and the past has a lot of them to offer us,” a professor of Science Fiction Studies (cool!) told me.
So what if the days ahead, as well as the actual past, have solutions to offer us? Future technology — drone-planting trees, plastic-eating enzymes, solar geoengineering! — may very well help solve the climate crisis, in theory, but it can’t be the only solution. Which is why I was particularly excited by my story about the biotechnology that’s being used in the beauty industry to sustainably recreate the world’s most threatened ingredients, like palm oil, shark squalene, and even glacial ice melt.
I also followed-up with some sources who don’t have to look so far into the future to glean that shimmery optimism. Last spring, I spent a month interviewing workers at a number of artisanal factories throughout Italy about how they were faring, pandemic-wise, so I got back in touch almost a year later to see what’s next for them. I included an Italian saying in the story called, “Finché c'è vita c'è speranza,” which translates to, “As long as there is life, there is hope.” Italy’s ancestral trades are finally starting to catch a glimpse of hope. And maybe, so can we all.
In January and February, I wrote about:
The skiwear label looking to break up skiing’s old boys’ club.
The eternal, desperate optimism of retro-futurism, and the late Pierre Cardin, who helped spearhead the Space Age aesthetic of the 1960s.
CeCe Vu, TikTok’s lead of fashion and beauty partnerships, who may be the secret weapon for brands and creators looking to make it big on the platform.
Why seemingly every LA-based PYT gets their nails done at this one salon in the Valley. (If you follow at least one (1) KarJenner, you know what I’m talking about.)
If biotechnology is the answer to a more sustainable beauty industry, with scientists replicating endangered botanicals to produce renewable versions.
Where Italy’s family-run factories go from here, one year into the worst crisis of a generation that threatened to wipe out that “Made in Italy” label for good.
Why, in such a challenging year for fashion businesses, a new generation of retailers are heading to Wall Street to try their luck on the public market.
Some pieces I read, and you might like to read, too:
President Biden, appoint a fashion czar! (Liz Segran/Fast Company)
The lies Hollywood tells about little girls (Mara Wilson/The New York Times)
Sweatpants sales are booming, but the workers who make them are earning even less (Jasmin Malik Chua/Vox)
She sued her enslaver for reparations and won. Her descendants never knew. (Sydney Trent/The Washington Post)
“Fake Famous” and the tedium of influencer culture (Naomi Fry/The New Yorker)
Every pro team’s Jackie Robinson (David Sabino/The Undefeated)
The Catholic Church is learning to listen to the Earth (Whitney Bauck/Atmos)
Raquel Willis on the revolutionary act of self-care (Chloe Hall/Elle)
See you in…less than 67 days next time,
MJB
This month, I’ve made a donation to Casa Marianella, an Austin-based organization aiding immigrant families by providing shelter, medical resources, food, clothing, and more. Due to the weather crisis, several of the organization’s former residents have been displaced from their apartments and are sheltering at Casa Marianella, where they’re in need of fresh food and bottled drinking water.