A case for Lovergirl Fall
Hello my wonderful liminal and irl community. I hope you’re enjoying each writer’s takeover of the Hot Literati Universe. We’ve had Miss Ananya explore tech and addiction and lead a group of thought daughters around WSP (more eventually). We’ve had Vic do a reading while getting a tattoo for about 15 minutes (her idea not mine!!!). And now we have Anderson II, and if you’ve been here for a bit, then you know that Anderson makes nothing if not an impression and then a second and a third until his voice and his words are lingering in your consciousness. His/our next event will be a book swap/darty on September fifteenth on the lower east side. Mark your calendars, come ready to party and show the frat-loved Sunday Funday tradition how sexy readers make use of day drinking and music.
I’ve been writing extremely personal narratives and recounts of my days that are available in extremely small batches (3 each) on our shop, but believe me life has still been coming fast and hard and as my friend Sarah said the other day “I’ve been living extra extra hard.”
I’ve been very good at ending things. I was thinking about my last relationship and then my playgirl phase. My playgirl phase was an exercise in loose ends and possibilities. I liked to leave an open door (for the connection? For the story?) Now I am getting better at closing the door, or just walking away to go somewhere nicer and more suited to me.
For example, today I went to go pick up some stuff from this guy’s place. He texted me to at least let him make me a drink and I reminded him that I only drink on Fridays and Saturdays (except for our darty, I will make an exception for that). He’s very nice, I enjoy him a lot, and when I entered, he was playing piano concerto no. 2 or 3. We rushed to tell one another that we didn’t really see legs on this and he asked if I was running out and I said yes, because I had a call with Bella.
I told him that I was ready for something serious and based on the way he responded, I couldn’t really tell if he thought what we were doing would turn into that. I clarified that I hadn’t really seen us in that light, because I associated “someone serious” with a different type of treatment.
I’d realized my own new perspective toward love and my readiness for something satiating while writing one of those said extremely personal narratives. Running around the world, living extra hard can be nice, but running with someone with no need for a door is even better.
I remember the first time I really explored the lover girl as a digital aesthetic. Probably while I was with my ex who I saw a handful of times this summer (not in a romantic sort of way, but in a “wow we really grew up together and are very different people now sort of way).”
He used to call me a lover girl. And then, one fall, I think the fall before I moved to join him as a WAG in Europe, I was sitting in my bed in pajamas his mother had gotten me and drinking coffee and I filmed a tiktok to Alice phoebe Lou’s “Lover // Over the Moon.” I think I had to stop being a lover girl because I was doing it in a way that allowed me to get hurt. In a way that made it ok for my dreams to be put on hold. Now I've lived more life, had more seasons, and I know how to shut a door.
And I know how to love, to desire, to be loved and desired in a way that feels like a net good thing and not a necessity for the sake of validation. I can do own my affirming. I want someone who is nice to be around and encourages me to be even better.
Someone who can respect my boundaries, let me exist in my own frame, and still push me to be my best. Someone who will brew the coffee some mornings and wash the mugs on others. Someone who can stay out with me until 5 or let me go out alone. Someone who remembers that I only drink on Fridays and Saturdays, and maybe orders a Vesper for me when I'm running late.
I think I arrived here because I have more reverence for myself now. More love for myself and my friends and the world. Black woman hypergamy tumblr is one of my favorite corners of the internet (I don’t subscribe to all of the values but I find it very fun) and there’s a huge emphasis on understanding that it is a privilege to be around you. learning to believe this and act as such has been such a blessing. I had to unlearn a lot to get here, but now that I am it’s easier to say no to a date, to leave a text unanswered. I know what my non-negotiables are, and I will be kind about it, but I I will assert them.
So here we are. Lover girl. No longer a twenty one, accidental trad wife in Europe, but:
A lover of the world
A lover of the sun
A lover of the sky on a nice day
A lover of clubs and dancing and a black cup of coffee in bed
A lover of myself
A lover a lover and lover
Now, we can date! We can express love to whole world in different ways! Everything is flirty! We can love everyone because we don’t need it poured into us from everyone. Because we already have enough love.
I left him, the guy, standing in his apartment. “Let’s stay in touch” he said, or something like that.
“I think we’d be great friends,” I said (read: Door shut, or at least changed into a different type of door), “Who else can I freak out about Piano Concerto No. 3 with?” I asked, acknowledging that he was playing it right now, over the speakers.
“You really put me on a Rachmaninoff kick,” he said, “I’m going to think about you for a long time whenever I hear him.”
I giggled and I left.
The first step of being a Lover Girl is knowing when to leave.
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