My Culture Diary
From Mormon Moms to Trans Fables, Coming of Age, and Intergenerational Friendship
Hello dear ones,
I’m back from my week off of substack, and grateful to have had the space to hit pause and focus my attention on other things that needed tending to. As LA continues to protest against ICE raids and the arrival of the national guard, and we all pray for those captured on the Madleen Freedom Flotilla, it feels strange to carry on with “business as usual” and offer my culture diary to you. And, I’m reminding myself that it’s okay to take time to process what’s happening in the world, and to hold space for the mundane alongside of escalating crisis. That, in fact, the books I read, and the shows I watch, and the music that I listen to nourish me in ways that allow me to show up more fully in the world. Would love to hear what you’ve been watching, reading, and listening to! Drop them in the comments.









Hacks is maybe one of my fav shows of the past few years, and I devoured season 4. It’s so nice to see a show that centers an intergenerational friendship between women. Yes, Ava and Deborah work together, but their bond is so much more intimate than that. Which is why it’s really hard for me to see them in conflict with each other. And, at the same time, it’s refreshing to see a show present the difficulties of intimacy in a way that just feels real, ugly, and messy. Without giving too much away, some of my fav moments were: Ava being in a throuple, Deborah saying “QPOC” and knowing what that means, and Robby Hoffman joining the cast.
ICYMI, I’m working on a YA novel. And since I haven’t read much YA, outside of Akwaeke Emezi’s Bitter and Pet, since I was a teen, I’ve been immersing myself in the landscape of very queer, very trans YA. Kacen Callender’s Felix Ever After is the story of a transgender boy named Felix, whose last name is Love, but who has never been in love. When a plot for revenge puts Felix in an unexpected love triangle, messiness ensues. What I loved about this book, outside of the plot and the amazing writing, was seeing how complex the representations of the teenagers were. They’re both painfully self-aware and, at times, totally unable to stop themselves from doing things they know they probably shouldn’t do. Teen me gets it.
I’ve long loved Lorde’s music, but this has only increased since her vulnerable collab with Charli XCX had her talking about her mental health struggles, and her more recent comments about her understanding of her own gender, declaring in “Man of the Year”: “Some days I’m a woman/Some days I’m a man.” In a convo with Chappell Roan, she was asked if she’s nonbinary and responded “I’m a woman except for the days when I’m a man. I know that’s not a very satisfying answer, but there’s a part of me that is really resistant to boxing it up.” I feel you Lorde. In her video for “Man of the Year,” Lorde is looking like such a babe in a loose white tee and jeans, and I kinda lost it when she binded her chest with duct tape.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve found so many books I’ve loved based off of their covers. So when I saw Catalina by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio, I was drawn to the pink book and all the sparkles. That’s all it really takes for me. But I stayed for Villavicencio’s coming of age tale that is equal parts serious and hilarious. Catalina, the books protagonist, is finishing her final year at Harvard as an undocumented immigrant living with her undocumented grandparents in Queens, and is very horny. The book is a brilliant satire of white anthropologists, the absurdity of academia, and an indictment of US border control that feels especially necessary as ICE raids escalate across the US and in Los Angeles in particular. I really, really loved it.
Trashy reality tv is a survival tool for me. I get lost in worlds that are so radically different than mine, and so privileged that I actually can’t be bothered to care about the lives of the people starring in them. I’m both invested and detached, fascinated and appalled. The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives gives me all that I need: mormon moms who earn their living off of making TikTok videos, caught up in scandal after scandal, fighting with each other while supposedly representing girls supporting girls. It’s awful and I simply cannot turn away.
I’m often reading multiple books at a time, putting one down to read another, and then returning back to finish the abandoned book. (Side note: with so many books long forgotten, I’m always weirdly proud of myself when I do that. It feels, somehow, like I’ve accomplished a really challenging feat.) A while back I started Neko Case’s memoir The Harder I Fight, the More I Love You. I’ve heard of Case, but am not familiar with her music, and only picked up the memoir based off of the recommendation of my thesis advisor. There’s magic in how Case tells the story of growing up poor and neglected in the Pacific Northwest, and her eventual success as a musician. What I appreciated was Case’s ability to show the worst parts of herself and her parents, while refusing to villainize anyone in the process.
Boy Island by Leo Fox is one of my favorite human’s favorite books. So one night we laid in their bed and I read the book aloud. I was immediately captivated by the mythology that Fox creates to explain transphobia, and Lucille’s journey from Girl Island to Boy Island. This book is a parable about gender, family, and acceptance. I loved Fox’s illustrations, as well as the humorous depictions of the characters populating this world.
Aforementioned favorite human also introduces me to so much music that I love. Including the hard rock band Sleep Token. The mask-clad band, reminiscent of Slip Knot and Insane Clown Posse, remains anonymous. The lead singer is known by the moniker “Vessel” and the rest of the band members are simply referred to as II, III, and IV. I’m here for the lore and for the significance that we can read into these chosen names. Sleep Token’s most recent album Even in Arcadia reminds me so much of bands like Linkin Park and Deftones — able to blend heavy metal screams with beautiful and heartbreaking vocals. Listening to Even in Arcadia has me feeling like teen Margeaux is alive in the present. Am also here for songs that are 7 min + long, like “Look to Windward.”
The short documentary Quilters was such a tender and humanizing look at those incarcerated in a Missouri maximum-security prison. Members of the restorative justice program that sews quilts for kids in the foster care system find healing by building community amongst each other and those they make quilts for. I also hate to say this, but it’s really refreshing to see a group of men get so much joy from doing a historically feminized form of labor.
I fucking love this. Every time you blog about something I'm obsessed w, my soul leaps w joy.
In this entry, it's Lorde + the Mormons.