ISO: Saved Searches
Devotion in the "saved" folder.
Tonight I am in my “saved” folder hoping that the lace trim in a John Kacere painting or a love letter from Eero Saarinen will shake a new feeling to my surface. I remember I should buy organic cotton underwear while the internet runs on with sales but become bored by the idea of pragmatism in the wake of Kacere’s ribbon and all.
I am trying to figure out what it is about the blue in Emily Bode’s apartment that lords over other blues. I am memorizing the lines of two lovers in an Egon Schiele sketch as if with my attention alone I could call for a new memory.
I am making a note to cut my bangs shorter. A separate note to dye my hair pink. I am checking to see if I can find socks as red as the ones George Halston wears lighting up in his alluringly grey living room. I am thinking about rearranging the furniture in my apartment. I am patiently waiting for Paulaschkaa Studios to drop these sheer skirts. I am researching sewing machines in the meantime.
I am wondering if sleep in Hotel Amour could ever be restful or how long a shower in the middle of a room could continue feeling religious. I spiral through the indignity of not knowing the answer to either, if not both.
I am somewhere in my archives between an Agent Provocateur bra I have hunted down and a pair of Asics I have not when I see the same image twice.
On a black background, in white capital letters “TELL A FRIEND YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH THEM TONIGHT” appears for the second time.
On the 21st of every July, Hanif Abdurraqib posts a photo of himself standing in front this slide show presentation with a long caption about declarations of big feelings. I remember that tonight, last year, I made a similar pronouncement. I come crashing down from my collection of frivolous distractions and opulent delusions. I came to my saved folder to pray, but wind up looking to be saved.
“No one is coming to save any of us, except the people who have already been saving you the entire time you’ve loved them, and they’ve loved you. And so, with that in mind, it should be a little easier to find the language for our friends, our beloveds this time around. Thank you for saving me in the past, thank you for saving me in all of the futures I can’t even imagine, until there are no futures left. I love you so much that I’ll watch this version of the world’s ending alongside you, and I won’t be as afraid as I might be if you weren’t here.”
Lost in a sea of perfect blues and vintage silks, I forgot the post is not about turning platonic love into romantic love but treating platonic love with the same vigor as romantic love. Preparing for an anniversary I would not come to celebrate, last week I started collecting a series of moments where my friends have stood in as lovers. There are songs written just for me first thing in the morning, noble attempts to lure me to California, transcriptions of voicemails, videos skipping down Essex arm in arm before dinner and drinks in sheer blue tights. A dinner, where, over martinis with a twist we both cried at the power of the love we share together.
Some years, Abdurraqib seems annoyed that amidst all of his work, TELL A FRIEND YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH THEM TONIGHT, is what he is most known for. I find this form of notoriety the only worthy pursuit. It is the only thing in my saved folder that has offered me anything close to salvation.
Rejoice! I am in love with you tonight!
As a treat for paid subscribers (lovers) here are some sheer Kacere-esque panties, Asics collaborations, blue tights, and red socks I have found on the world wide web just for you….<3