pleasures #1: autumn, I guess
This newsletter exists because I believe two things: one, that you deserve good things, and two, that no one is coming to save you
Every autumn, it becomes necessary to pretend.
The pursuit of pleasure is never harder than when it’s raining hard and the day ends abruptly at an inhospitable 4pm. What I’m saying is, if you want to be happy by December, you better start trying right now.
There has never been a perfect summer in the history of anybody at all, but it does lend itself more easily to pleasurable pursuits, which flourish under the following conditions:
Sunshine;
Time off work;
Long days.
A city like London on a hot day has a special magic about it, a looseness around the edges. On the first really sunny day of this year, a man in Wholefoods told me I looked like someone who was very happy. Nothing at all had happened that day: it was just that it was 29 degrees and I was able to wear, for the first time, a pale blue babydoll dress from Sézane which my mother had found in a charity shop for £12. I was meeting a friend in Regents’ Park for a picnic and buying prosciutto, sweet melon, good bread, a bottle of wine with a pretty label.
But buying nice things was just a by-product of the fact that it was finally summer. The ease with which I could slip into a dress and sit on the grass was a pleasure in itself.
In the autumn, you don’t get off that easy.
I think autumn is the perfect time to talk about the pursuit of pleasure, because it’s so much harder. There’s a reason we buy our way through it. As I write, it’s cold and raining, a piece of information I have manipulated into meaning: I should get a new coat! In a season where everything that grew all summer just kind of dies, we seek endless newness. Autumn has never quite shook off its back-to-school aura, with all the dread and shopping that implies. You’re thinking about your life again, aren’t you? You’re worrying about change, or a lack of change. You’re questioning yourself: what do I really want? Why don’t I have what I want? Why don’t I want what I have? Your hands get cold when you’re texting your best friend at the bus stop, and rainwater leaks into your shoes, and you look into buying one of those Seasonal Depression lamps.
In times like these, the pursuit of pleasure is not like slipping on a summer dress. It’s more like dressing for the cold: it takes a little more time, a little more material, a little more effort.
This newsletter exists because I believe two things: one, that you deserve good things, and two, that no one is coming to save you. You’ve probably heard the manifestation mantra, “I don’t chase, I attract”, and maybe you’ve used it a few times, or puzzled over exactly what exactly it means. I’ve always found it a little suspect: the underlying suggestion is that passivity reaps rewards, that there’s something bad about trying really hard. Effort, when it’s not being fetishised in the context of hyper-productivity, has never quite shaken off its uncool, earnest demeanor. But when I leave a party, my favourite person is never the girl who rolled her eyes in the corner: it’s the one who pulled perfect strangers into the middle of the dancefloor.
There’s this clip of Jane Fonda I think about a lot, where she’s talking about female friendship. "You have to pursue people that you want to be friends with,” she says, “and you have to say: ‘I'm intentionally wanting to be your friend’ and it works.” I think I’ve always been a chaser: good times, good people, good things, good days. In hot pursuit of pleasure, you might get a little sweaty: that’s okay.
Earlier, I said that it’s time to start pretending. I know that girls on the internet get a lot of flack for “romanticising” their life and “being the main character” and getting excited about TikTok aesthetics (I’m personally enjoying the yearly renaissance of the frazzled English woman). Yes, these ideas get co-opted by brands to sell you things, but I think there’s a lot of value in the core idea here. Romanticising your life is a bit like layering: the world can be cold and unforgiving and it’s okay to want some protection against that. Make the autumn playlist! Put Ella Fitzgerald on it! Plan your Halloween costume! Walk in the park and get a pub roast! Make your bedroom somewhere you want to be! Put pumpkin spice in your coffee! Watch When Harry Met Sally and Gilmore Girls and Practical Magic! Read a campus novel! Read a romance novel! Have a bath!
Yes, this is the stuff of Pinterest boards and TikTok algorithms, and you don’t need me to tell you to buy a hot chocolate or light a candle. But I think it’s important to remember that there are lots of ways into loving your life.
Ultimately when I’m talking about the pursuit of pleasure, I am often thinking about scale: not just the great and the terrible, but the small and the simple. I am extremely guilty of wanting everything to be exciting all the time, but I’m realising that my sense of proportion is way out of whack. Make the effort to pursue tiny pleasures. It gets dark late and your hands are cold: walk home with a friend or a lover, holding their hand, and eat pasta together in the kitchen with the lights glowy and dim. On your way back from work, look up at the sky, really notice it, and listen to a song that feels like it was written just for you, really take in the words. Organise a Friendsgiving and, when everyone’s sitting around, eating or satiated, take a second: look at people’s faces, listen to their laughter, hold the taste of it all on your tongue.
Pursue, pursue, pursue – then linger, linger, linger.
Hi! Welcome to IN HOT PURSUIT OF PLEASURE, a newsletter about good things and how to get them. Every other week, you’ll receive a new PLEASURES (essays about good things) or a new HOT PURSUITS (guides and recommendations for good things).
LOVE and ready to drink lots of pumpkin spice xo