socialite summer
a girl's guide to learning how to love people
Hey, stranger.
It’s been awhile. Or, at least, it feels that way for me. I haven’t felt like writing anything because I haven’t felt like saying anything. So this letter is me not saying much, but writing anyway. There are a lot more of you here than there have been and sometimes I find myself, fingers poised over they keyboard, getting stage fright. I worry that my writing is too serious or not serious enough, or that some of you will boo me off the stage if what I write isn’t what you want to read, or that maybe you’ll get the wrong impression of the type of person I am. I guess the obvious response to that is well, you’re the one writing a public newsletter and to that I say, you’re absolutely right.
This summer I am sitting outside to drink my morning coffee. I am sitting outside to read my book in the afternoons. I am sitting outside for dinner and dessert and when I just want to sit on my phone and do nothing. I am trying to remember that there are many months of the year where I’m not able to sit outside for my coffee in the morning so I better enjoy it while I can.
I have decided this is my socialite summer, a concept coined by
, even though I do have a full time job outside of socializing and I usually dread plans until the minute I’m out the door. I never said I’m good at being a socialite but god, am I trying. Everything I’ve attempted to write recently has been about connecting with people, or my attempt to. I think I’ve been trying to connect with people ever since I was a little girl, and I suspect I’ll spend a fair amount of my time continually doing so. Here are my tenets for having a socialite summer, though yours may look different:Text new friends like they are old friends. Send them voice memos and ask them to remind you what olive oil they’ve been using and liking recently and invite them to a pre work Thursday morning coffee.
Go to the pool alone and lay on your back and hear the weird, alien sound of a pool underwater. Ask the girl sitting on the lounger next to you where she got her swimsuit.
Be the one to make plans with people even if they don’t invite you to do things. Maybe someday they will, but maybe they won’t. Either is okay. Feel no shame in being the person who asks first.
Do an activity after work every day, even mid week*. Sometimes people talk about having too much going on but I often find myself feeling a little lost at 4pm on a Wednesday. Go to that weird pop up between a knife sharpening company and clothing boutique after work. Get a glass of wine on a patio or go to a book store or drink a Diet Coke at the park.
Ask the barista what his favorite drink is and order it. Ask the girl serving you ice cream if she likes her job and if one arm is stronger than the other from scooping all day. Ask the lady at the farmer’s market if she’s hot and needs water.
Wear sunscreen and bring extra to offer to a friend.
Go out to dinner with the intention of sitting there for 3 to 4 hours. I’m talking Before Sunrise when Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy sit at that outdoor cafe until the early hours of the morning. Don’t rush to get the bill and go home. Sit until the heat lifts and you finally stop sweating. Sit until you start getting imprints of the wicker chair on your ass.
On that note, walk to dinner and walk home afterwards. Take the long way. Maybe sit on a bench on the way and watch people go by.
Shop for groceries the way they do in Europe (I think). Get what you need for dinner that same day, and nothing more. Enjoy the process of picking out vegetables and browsing the pastry section.
Get your film developed at an independent studio and go often enough that they remember who you are. Ask them about different types of film and how to take better photos. See if they’ll show you the dark room.
If a restaurant or record store has jazz nights, go.
When you meet someone that you know you’ll probably never see again, still ask them if they like what they do for work and if they like the heat or can’t wait for winter and what kind of music they like. There is no such thing as a waste of time when it comes to paying attention to people.
Take a page out of your 8 year old self’s playbook and tell someone I like you, I’d like to be your friend. I think if someone said that to me, I wouldn’t forget it.
Say yes to everything. I mean it. Unless you are one of those people who always has too much going on. But for the recent graduates among us, or the recent new-to-towns, or introverted souls— say yes more. You can always go home if you hate it.
When you say yes to something and go and find yourself uncomfortable because you don’t know anyone, don’t go on your phone. Find a drink, walk around, find something to look at. Someone might come talk to you, or not, but this is a part of life. Socialite summer is about keeping your eyes open to the breadth of the human experience.
Buy peaches and cherries and strawberries in bulk because they’re in season and there is nothing better than a summer peach. Make berry cobbler and invite someone over to eat it with you.
Throw a dinner party. Maybe throw one where you invite people who don’t know each other and delight in the experience of a crossover episode.
Go out on Saturday night and walk home at 2am. Notice the satisfying feel of clothes on your back that are sweaty from being pressed in around people.
*I wrote this at 1:30am on a Wednesday after eating too much chocolate, getting a stomachache, and going to bed at 8pm so here’s a reminder that sometimes we don’t take our own advice.
I am learning how to love being around people, even when I’d rather be alone. I shouldn’t be surprised that sometimes it can be hard to love people, but I suspect it’s maybe the secret to a long and happy life. I’m not talking about loving your friends, or partner, or family, but loving the strangers you meet at the grocery store or on the sidewalk. Learning to love the fleeting interactions between coworkers around the coffee machines. Learning to love the awkward handshake-or-hug first meeting. Learning to love when you realize you don’t remember the name of the person you’ve been hanging out with all night. I don’t think we should turn away from each other and tend to our own families and our own friends, I think we should be witness to each other’s lives.
Anyway. I hope you’re well, wherever you are.
xoxo,
Evie
A reader was kind enough to point out that Socialite Summer was coined by Lola Kolade, which she explores here! Go check out her writing :)
an elderly woman returned her library book by setting it on the counter for the clerk (rather than throwing it quickly into the drop box isolated in the corner) and I was there too, checking out the pile my daughters had chosen. I had already read what she was returning and loved it so much I had to ask her if she did too. she had such a velvet voice when she answered, “Oh, yes!!” and we chatted a moment about “That ending!” “The mother was awful,” she said and I responded, “I know and Jeanette realized she could hate her, she didn’t have to romanticize her anymore.” that got a laugh, a knowing nod. we exchanged genuine smiles, eyes sparkling. I’ll likely never see her again but how beautiful that was, to stand in understanding on a Tuesday morning. more than hearting a photo of that book in my feed. I think over time social media engagement has tried to imitated this very real experience to the point that we assume we’re connected to thousands of people all the time when we’re not exactly ever. anyway, I love your socialite summer! this reaching, seeing, initiating, actually living.
"There is no such thing as a waste of time when it comes to paying attention to people." this is such a beautiful sentiment and I love it.