008: How relatable are you?

From books to celebrities to music, relatability has become the one quality that matters. Should that be the case?

First up, we wanted to say THANK YOU to you — our longstanding subscribers, our new subscribers and to everyone who has shared, forwarded or good old word-of-mouth-ed this newsletter to someone they know. Every week, we say something that we’re ambivalent about or have been too scared to articulate before and the response is always… so lovely? It’s exactly what we’d hoped to create: a non-judgmental space for genuinely thoughtful discussion that reaches beyond the surface. 

We want to do something a bit different for our 10^th edition next month: we want to talk about what it’s like to move to a new city as a young-ish person, and we’re keen to hear from you!! It’ll be a little more personal and a little edgier. Yes, ‘moving to London’ is basically a cliché for Australians at this point, but it feels like there’s so much to say beyond the usual chit-chat of which areas to live in (East, sorry) and how expensive everything is (sigh). We want to talk about cultural cringe, imperialist hangovers, class, what international moves do to friendships, the Splinter Era, whether the Big Smoke is all it’s cracked up to be…

We’d love to know, is there anything you’d like to hear about? About our lives or careers or loves and hates? Ask us anything! Chuck it in the comments. Or even anyone you’d like to hear from?

And now for this week… Why are we all so obsessed with relatability? From Taylor Swift to the in-vogue ‘relatable’ fiction narrator, it feels like there’s no higher praise in our culture than to say: “She’s one of us”. And it’s great that we’re eschewing elitism and pretension but… are we losing something when we look to art and hope, always, to find a mirror?

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What’s been on our minds this past fortnight…

Diana: So last week, I did an interview with an Australian visual artist for a feature I’m writing. And she was just… so esoteric. She’s our age, which is maybe why it was striking. When she talked about her work, she casually dropped the nerdiest references, from Greek mythology to cultural critics to performance artists, always with exact quotes. Afterwards, I was buzzing. It didn’t come across as pretentious or alienating at all. Sure, I had to go away and Google a lot of what she mentioned, but I was thrilled to. Like, that conversation was so great precisely because this artist wasn’t like me. She was a bit above and apart from me, and I benefited from that gap.

I feel like that’s so rare these days?

Divya: I totally agree. Very rare!

Whenever I’m writing (or reading) interviews with public figures, they often answer questions in a way that leans on how they might be similar to the reader or the interviewer, rather than emphasising difference. And I think how much they do this often correlates with how famous they are. That’s partly why, I think, you see so many celebrity interviews with pull quotes like this one from J Lo’s December Vogue US cover story.

“You turn yourself into a pretzel for people and think that that’s a noble thing, to put yourself second. And it’s not…at a certain point you go, Wait, this doesn’t feel good.”

So you think: ‘Woah! The Jennifer Lopez has people-pleasing tendencies? So do I!’ And you can project yourself onto her experience. She’s just like us! She’s so relatable. Except we know that J Lo, director of a film based on her own life, and producer of a longer-than-the-film-itself documentary about said film, is not, in fact, just like us. 

The dress! The pointed toes! This is no everywoman.

Diana: I do wonder if people — celebrities, writers, whoever — are too scared of not seeming ‘normal’, not wanting to alienate people with their work. Like the idea that if something sends you to a dictionary, it’s instantly pretentious.

Divya: I don’t think it’s just an Australian thing, either. It’s quite structural. 

Diana: I think it has a lot to do with monoculture. A few years ago critics were all eulogising monoculture — basically, the idea was that the internet had given us too much choice and there were no more big “water cooler” moments anymore because everyone was watching a different TV show on a different streamer and nobody was queuing for the cinema. And then last year we had Barbenheimer, and now The Eras tour, and it feels like monoculture is back. And people are so grateful to have it back that we’re loath to criticise it.

Divya: I think many people consume culture because they’re seeking out a sense of belonging and community — e.g. Taylor Swift, or even, right now, Baby Reindeer. If you do watch a movie or listen to music because you want to be part of something, then the idea of some culture being only for certain people is a threat to that idea. I think it can feel like you are being excluded. 

In saying that — I think the issue is that it’s easy to forget that other people seek out culture for other reasons that have nothing to do with belonging. Like, they look for something that is beautiful or interesting or evocative. And it might be esoteric. But that’s… okay as well? Like listening to opera doesn’t necessarily mean you’re classist, right? 

Diana: Yes. Like, we we assume all cultural consumption is an identity signifier. Like, it doesn’t have to be.  

Divya: Exactly. It’s like when Kaia Gerber and Kendall Jenner were getting papped with novels with all the sticky notes. Not to say they don’t actually read those books—

Diana: No, clearly, look at all those stickies!

Model, tequila entrepreneur, sticky note apologist!!

Divya: — but it’s just funny because they’ve been photographed doing it in such a performative way.

Diana: It’s such a stark example, because reading (unlike going to concerts or movies) is so private. Like, the actual experience of the art occurs between your mind and the page. You can read a book and nobody else ever has to know. 

And obviously people have always read performatively, but I agree with you, the ‘cool girl bibliophile’ is a very modern phenomenon. Like carrying around a book used to be a thing pseuds did to show that they were smarter/deeper than everyone else. I don’t think Kendall is trying to say she’s special. She’s reading to be just like everyone else.

Divya: I think books are such an interesting part of this conversation, actually. Because recently, it seems like that’s what everyone wants from a book: relatability. The blurb for so much contemporary (women’s) fiction is like, “Charming, funny and so relatable”. If you had only been reading contemporary fiction for the last ten years or so, it would be easy to assume that relatability was the defining aesthetic goal of literature.  I mean, all the best books have had some universal nugget of truth, but they’re not necessarily full of characters in your age group, from your racial background, from your social demographic. Should you only seek out characters that are like you? What about reading to get outside yourself, and experience something new?

Compelling evidence in montage form.

Diana: It does go back, I think, to what you said before about consuming art to be part of a community. Like, if you’re reading to see yourself represented, then you get to relate to the narrator, and to all the other literary types on Goodreads or Bookstagram who also identified with her. And suddenly you’re part of something bigger.

Divya: In a music sense, I think it’s also why fans are so… rabid these days. I think if you look to art to make you feel seen then it becomes about your experience. So if someone else — a New York Times critic, for example — says they don’t like the art, it feels like they’re denying that your experience is worth talking about. So fans take the opinion that Taylor Swift’s lyrics are insipid as equivalent to that person saying that their breakup is boring. 

Diana: I mean, it might well be… Kidding, I’m sure all breakups are fascinating. I’ve had to think about adaptations of classic novels for work recently and one thing that comes up a lot is how there’s a difference between ‘emotional resonance’ and ‘relatability.’ Like, when you watch a period film, you probably won’t find the characters relatable. But then, when you do eventually empathise with, like, some aristocratic teen who’s about to get married off, it’s more remarkable. That initial alienation makes the ultimate sympathy all the more profound. 

Like, I know there are a lot of Swifties, but surely ~ the human condition ~ is the biggest community of all?

Divya: I love that idea of the initial alienation. That makes so much sense. The payoff is bigger.

Also, what if it wasn’t always about being part of something beyond yourself? What if you just read something and… didn’t put it on Goodreads? If a tree falls, etc.

Diana: Yes. And if you did choose to enjoy a traditionally wanky art form, e.g. a subtitled film or an esoteric essay, then I would say that that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re trying to join a superior, smarter, smaller club. Kendall Jenner could doggy-ear Proust up the wazoo for all I care.

Divya: Yes. We just don’t need to know about it! 

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What we’ve loved this past fortnight…

Diana

Object: There are some core life skills (applying makeup; walking in heels) that I’ve never acquired and accept that I never will. Like, at some point in my teens when the train was chugging towards Womanhood, I got off at the stop before ‘Grooming/Self-Presentation’ and have just been hanging out here ever since. Anyway, I’m always on the lookout for cheat-heels and I think Mary Janes are my new solution. I especially love these slingback ones, which are slightly more elegant and less school-shoey than the fully enclosed ones.

Experience: In a follow-up from last week, Challengers is an amazing film. I haven’t been that compelled by sport-as-powerplay since Annie James and Hallie Parker fenced at summer camp.

Taste: Not just taste but also vibe: Stella’s in Newington Green is a butcher that converts to a speakeasy Thursday-Saturday. Not a rec if you’re veg or squeamish around raw meat but the (very meaty) sandwiches are delicious and the cocktails are delightful e.g. an iced coffee with vodka… because not every tired customer feels like an espresso martini. Genius?!

tellis.london

A post shared by @tellis.london

Divya

Object: I don’t know what magic Emma Lewisham puts in her skincare but it’s working. I was very kindly given some of the brand’s new Supernatural Vitale Elixir recently and it smells divine… and melts into your skin like butter on warm bread. I am the warm bread. And I will certainly be going back for more when my elixir/butter runs out.

Experience: Nicola Coughlan has been everywhere (including Bowral!?) in the excruciating lead-up to the coming season of Bridgerton — I will be watching because I have a beating heart — but I truly think that it would be hard for her to outdo her performance in a series I just watched her in called Big Mood. She’s an incredible actress and it’s so funny and so sharp; the perfect chaotic comedy for the post-Fleabag generation. And it’s very fun to see her playing an adult on screen (she is shockingly 37) instead of a teen, like in Bridgerton or Derry Girls (another forever favourite).

Lydia West standing next to Nicola here is also very good!

Taste: Speaking of relatability, this one is probably familiar to most of this side of the city this week: the first sip of slightly warmed rosé on a 23 degree Friday evening in London Fields opened with the communal travelling park corkscrew!!! Nothing on it.

Bye for now!

Divya and Diana xx