Sometimes I look at things I “enjoy”—fancy rosemary-infused biscuits, spoons carved by hand from the reclaimed wood of an ancient barn, or some other ridiculous, refurbished, locally sourced something-or-other one could only find in Brooklyn—and I think, “I love you, you precious little dry good*, but wow you’re pretentious.”
*Pretentious things are almost always referred to as “dry goods.”
Living in certain neighborhoods of Brooklyn sometimes feels like existing within The Emperor’s New Clothes, where everyone goes along with the dry goods’ hostile takeover for fear of looking uncool.
I was flipping through a few of my cookbooks this morning when I landed on the above spread in the (gorgeous) Kinfolk cookbook. It’s a tricky thing. I admire Kinfolk, yet it has a tendency to make me feel comparatively lousy. The photos are beautiful, the people are cool and attractive, and they’re often featured in their amazing homes with their adorable babies, leading overly-curated, photogenic lives. It kind of hurts my heart.
This morning, though, I had a moment of clarity: THESE PEOPLE ARE POSING IN A TREE.
Who poses in a tree??? (And looks depressed about it?)
The emperor is naked. But sometimes, I love it.