Being Good at Being a Girl

Nope, this isn’t a how-to. I’m going to come right out with it: I’m really bad at being a girl. That’s been different amounts of ok with me over the course of my short life. It’s actually been really helpful for me to grow into the woman I am proud to be. That said, there is still a part of me that knows that I don’t “fit in.” Even as an adult, the expectation is that you’re either part of the T-Swift #squad, or you’re the socially anxious chick who’s joking-but-really-serious about being scared to ask a new friend to coffee. Turns out, I’m neither one of those girls.

I wasn’t overly insecure as a kid when I was actually a girl. I did my thing and I was pretty happy about who I was. I had a lot of friends and interests, and I was able to freely explore myself as someone who wrote poetry on the bus in the morning and played football with the boys at recess and sang in a girl band after school and spent my Saturdays in synagogue and went to science camp during the summer and shopped at Limited Too at the mall and played magic cards with my brother and his friends and…and you get the picture.

Flash forward through a 10-year montage of creative writing in the woods at Interlochen, to amazing adventures abroad, and then back to NYC for a few years of dancing late and dreaming big…the woman I am now is somewhere in between hyper career oriented and on the couch watching a movie with my husband on a Friday night. I realize that I’m not alone in this routine, and at the same time, I’m a bit lonely. The one area I’ve had trouble managing in my adulthood is spending time with my existing girlfriends and getting to know other awesome females.

Here’s where being bad at being a girl goes against me. I think getting my nails done is a chore–not an activity, boozy brunches are out since I’ve been working on my private pilot’s license for the past year, and although I do love exercising, I realize not everyone does–so spin class isn’t always inclusive. I also hate the beach, prefer to go shopping on my own, and have no appetite for anything I have to stand in line on the street and wait for 2 hours to eat. I am probably the last woman standing in NYC who hasn’t had a cronut.

I mentioned earlier that being bad at being a girl, however uncomfortable at times, did help me to become my own woman. An important turning point in my development as a woman, it turns out, has to do a lot with how my relationships with my girlfriends have changed. This idea–a lesson that I hadn’t even fully articulated to myself until now–came up while I was watching Taylor Swift’s Vogue 73 Question interview as part of my brainstorming for this piece. I think she’s an incredibly talented yet introspective female force, and I’m inspired by the energy she puts into her girlfriends. I really respect her ability to bring powerful girls together.

I’d like to think that I was like this when I was 26. Part of me wants to retain some of this spirit as I stare down my 30th birthday. Nonetheless, something that resonated with me and shed a light on my own development in the past 3 years was when she mentioned that she told her girlfriends “absolutely everything.” I can’t quite put a finger on when I stopped doing that. I certainly used to. Even by the time I had my first “grown-up job,” I would spend hours chatting to my girlfriends, stream of consciousness style, dissecting recent dates, dissing new girlfriends of ex-boyfriends, and deciding where to go dancing that night.

Was this our way of desperately trying to replicate preindustrial, it-takes-a-village kind of womanhood? Camille Paglia put it simply in the 2015 Women in Entertainment issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine, “Women have lost the natural solidarity and companionship they enjoyed for thousands of years in the preindustrial agrarian world, where multiple generations chatted through the day as they shared chores, cooking and child care.”

I don’t disagree with Paglia, and at the same time I’m increasingly finding the need for female relationships and am consistently coming up short. I’m not sure if I’m more troubled by the possibility that they simply don’t exist anymore versus the dearth of productive and actually powerful ways for women to come together, group selfies aside.

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Art Review: Yayoi Kusama’s “Dots Obsession — Alive, Seeking for Eternal Hope,” Philip Johnson Glass House, New Canaan, CT

I had the fortune of visiting the Philip Johnson Glass House in New Canaan, CT during the three-week installment of Yayoi Kusama’s Dots Obsession — Alive, Seeking for Eternal Hope. I can report that it was a joyful and resounding collision of seemingly unassociated iconic styles. Betwixt her own Narcissus Garden and Pumpkin, Kusama’s newest Infinity Room rounds out the three works celebrating the 10th anniversary of The Glass House since it opened to the public. It is also the first time an artist has interacted with the architecture itself as the canvas.

I wonder what the late Philip Johnson and his partner, David Whitney, would have thought about the addition of the red dots. As an idea, it’s almost absurd. But, in some certain sense, that’s exactly what makes it perfect. On any given day without the dots, the inescapable, overarching theme of The Glass House and its grounds is the tension between nature and the man-made. The repeating geometry of the organic, rounded edges of the leaves in the trees intervene with the sharp corners of the house but marry with the curve of the internal column of the building.

yayoi-kusama-glass-house-blue-print

I had almost expected the dots to be more arresting. The absurdity of it in its abstraction, for me, was fueled by my fear that it would distract from not only the natural world but the physical structure. Looking out over the pastoral, sloped landscape I notice the interplay of stone fences with commercial concrete structures; I feel how carefully choreographed each view is, and I know that Johnson and Whitney would have embraced Kusama.

There is an incredible sense of art world sanctity at 877 Ponus Ridge Road. The stories–whether or not you choose to believe them–of Andy Warhol putting out his cigarette on a Barcelona Chair one night or of Frank Lloyd Wright repositioning Elie Nadelman’s papier-mâché maquette of Two Circus Women, fill the space with the sense that culture and taste as we know it today were conceived, drenched in martinis, right there.


Dots Obsession — Alive, Seeking For Eternal Hope is on view until September 26, though unfortunately tickets for the Infinity Room tour seem to be completely sold out.
Narcissus Garden and Pumpkin will remain on view through November 30.

Featured Image Credit: Matthew Palacek

Yayoi Kusama x @pjglasshouse #theglasshousedotsobsession #infinityroom

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