You Didn't Ask #22
oh you thought this was a rabbit?
Hi friends!
Happy Friday! I know you were expecting me to say Happy Fourth of July, but I’m skipping that holiday this year. I simply can’t bring myself to celebrate our independence from the Brits when all I want in life is a British visa. Honestly, if we were still part of the Commonwealth, I could be sipping an iced americano basking in the British summer right now like every Canadian and Australian who gets to live, laugh, love, and legally stay in the UK for two whole years. It’s just not right.
Anyway, sorry to crash out in the opening paragraph, it’s been a week. As you’ll soon see, my love for the UK really shines in this week’s edition. Let’s dive in, shall we?
God Bless Glasto
Do you know what the UK does better than any country in the world? Throw a music festival. Glastonbury is what Coachella dreams it could be. It has all the hype, all the celebs, all the amazing headliners but it also has the one thing Coachella can’t seem to grasp: normies. Glasto is the only festival I know where my favorite celebs are dancing next to people I actually know. Coachella, on the other hand, feels like it’s exclusively attended by influencers more concerned with locking in their latest brand deal than actually caring about the music.
(That being said, watching a livestream of Beychella changed me as a person but that’s the exception, not the rule.)
Can you believe I’ve never been? Every year I say I’m going to do it, and every year I don’t make it. I think for me, it’s the concept of camping in the muddy English countryside that’s the dealbreaker. But one of these days man….
Glasto had all the biggest names in attendance this year and by that, I obviously mean the holy trinity of 1D: Louis, Harry, and Niall. Do we think they saw each other? Do we think they went to watch Olivia Rodrigo together? In reality, I know the most we could hope for is a quick "hey" backstage, but a girlie can dream. Especially considering some of their behavior at the festival was… interesting.
Louis? He was there with rumored girlfriend and former Love Island star Zara McDermott but also spotted liking a Larry edit on Instagram mid festival. Sure, he unliked it quickly, but not quickly enough for the eagle-eyed girlies who live for this kind of stuff (i.e., me). Maybe that’s why later that night, Harry was seen making out with a mystery woman.
Now, there shall be no Harry Hate in this newsletter, but Jesus Christ that makeout was cringe. Never in my life did I think there would be Harry Styles is a bad kisser discourse. Girlies were debating whether he’s just a bad kisser with women and different with men, citing his role and kissing skills showcased in My Policeman, a film literally no one watched. I want to believe it too, but I fear we’re still far from ever seeing Boy Kisser Harry Styles live in action.
Meanwhile, what was Niall doing? Staying in his lane. Enjoying the music. Not causing timeline meltdowns. God, it must be so peaceful being a Niall girl.
Anyway, while the men of Glasto may have disappointed me, the women reigned supreme. Olivia Rodrigo, Lorde, and Charli XCX slayed. I don’t know why festival organizers haven’t figured out that the people love Charli. They didn’t put her on the main stage, and as a result, they had to stop allowing people to her set entirely because everyone at Glasto wanted to have a Brat moment. Poor Neil Young probably looked out at his half-empty headlining crowd wondering where everyone was. They were having a Brat summer, Neil!!
Also Lorde’s performance totally sold me on her comeback. I wasn’t in a rush to listen to her new album, but the clips from her set changed that. She’s just so genuinely weird a perfect patron saint for us weird girls who spent too much time on Tumblr. Go off, Ella. Never change.
And when it comes to show-stopping performances, we simply must talk about Olivia Rodrigo. Leading up to the festival, people were running their mouths online saying she wasn’t qualified to headline Glasto, but her stage presence and performance shut them the hell up. She ate. And she even brought out Robert Smith from The Cure to sing some classics with her. If that didn’t win over the Brits, I don’t know what would.
But the real number one woman of Glasto? Helen from Wales. She diligently livestreamed the entire set of Irish rap group Kneecap after they were pulled from the BBC’s streaming schedule. Her TikTok live hit 1.8 million viewers at its peak. She abandoned her booze (which, at festival prices, was probably a $50 sacrifice) and got a sunburn on her fingers for the cause. She’s a Glasto legend now, forever.
Glastonbury won’t be back until 2027 and I’m setting a lofty goal for myself: that year, I’m going. Mark my words. This time, I mean it.
The Girls AREN’T Fighting
In other major Olivia Rodrigo news: war has finally come to an end between her and fellow starlet Sabrina Carpenter and honestly, thank God.
For those who need a refresher, the drama between Olivia and Sabrina dates back to 2021, when the two found themselves in a love triangle centered around mediocre white boy Joshua Bassett. Olivia and Josh were co-stars on the Disney+ series High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, and according to the songs on Olivia’s debut album, they fell in love while working together. He taught her how to drive, she taught him about underground artist Billy Joel, they shared ice cream and then, boom. He abruptly dumped her and was suddenly spotted out and about with Sabrina Carpenter.
A betrayal, for sure. But what turned this into a cultural moment was Olivia’s hit song Driver’s License, a song that describes the whole ordeal and that blew up beyond anyone’s expectations.
The line “you’re probably with that blonde girl” was the shot heard ’round the world for girlies who’ve ever felt spurned by a man. Suddenly, the Livies turned into a digital army, dragging Josh and Sabrina (who everyone assumed was the unnamed blonde girl).
Josh responded by… kind of trying to come out? He gave an interview where he said Harry Styles was hot (an objective fact) and then made a noncommittal nothingburger statement that said absolutely nothing. When that didn’t land, he told his fans that the stress had put him in the hospital with heart failure. Interesting media strategy for sure.
Sabrina went a different route, addressing the situation in her song Because I Liked a Boy. Subtle it was not, with lyrics like:
“I got death threats fillin' up semi-trucks,” and
“Was only tryna hold you close while your heart was failing. It's not internet illusions, just two kids going through it.”
Gee, I wonder what she’s talking about there.
It wasn’t my favorite response, and it was clear from that point forward that Olivia and Sabrina were not on good terms. (Whats more Sabrina wrote a new unnamed love triangle which most speculate is about her Shawn Mendez and Camilla Cabello which like girlie really? On all levels, that’s a mess I don’t want to get into).
Then Olivia got drafted into a much bigger war: her feud with Taylor Swift. Poor Liv could not catch a break. First she got heat for the Sabrina/Josh mess, then she got hit with a lawsuit from her former idol Taylor Swift for allegedly copying Cruel Summer. Taylor made bank, Olivia lost a hero, and let’s not forget: Olivia was already going through the hellscape that is being 19.
So when Taylor invited Olivia’s longtime nemesis Sabrina to open for her on the European leg of the Eras Tour, it felt like a twist of the knife. Just a move that felt like it would perminatly fracture the two girls. I honestly thought we were in for a lifetime of brunette vs. blonde and the pop world would never know peace.
But then this week, just before Olivia headlined Glastonbury, she performed one of her biggest shows yet at British Summer Time in London.
And guess who was in the audience, cheering her on?
That’s right SABRINA.
Finally. At last! All is well, we’re witnessing a girlboss girl win. If this doesn’t end with Olivia and Sabrina collabing on a track called Sweet and Sour, then truly… what has all of this been for? Regardless, I’m just happy I can listen to both of their music without feeling a deep, inexplicable feminist sadness all because of fucking Joshua Bassett.
Ah well, a win is a win.
Money Really Can’t Buy You Class
The Countess Luann was really onto something when she said money can’t buy you class, because Jesus Christ was the Lauren Sánchez Jeff Bezos wedding one of the tackiest events I’ve ever seen. All that Amazon money, and this is what it bought? Bad plastic surgery, a boring dress, and a poorly tailored suit? I’m simply aghast.
And did you see that carpet they brought to their outdoor ceremony? I have so many questions. Like, you couldn’t find anything nicer in the back of one of those Amazon warehouses? All the money in the world and you chose “office cubicle chic” for your Italian summer wedding??
The celebrity attendees were just as gauche and as usual doing too much. The entire KarJenner clan was there of course rubbing elbows with a number of A Listers from Oprah to Tom Brady to serial dater Leonardo DiCaprio. It’s kind of ironic that Mr. Climate Activist is besties with one of the worst corporate offenders when it comes to sustainability but go off, Leo. Also, nice try hiding behind that hat. We all saw you.
Post-divorce Orlando Bloom was spotted cozying up to just about every woman in sight. Gross. Poor Katy Perry’s on tour raising their daughter Daisy while her ex is out here gallivanting at the Amazon Prime Day Presents Wedding Extravaganza.
This whole affair proves that you can have money and still lack taste. Jeff and Lauren invited every celebrity on the planet, wore the most expensive designers, and rented out a literal Italian villa for the weekend and somehow, it all fell flat. There was absolutely nothing aspirational about it, which is almost impressive in its own right.
Also, it looks like Lauren had her whole face touched up right before the big day to the point where someone on Twitter said she looked like a Canadian character from South Park. Oof. Not exactly the comparison any bride wants to hear.
Sure, the wedding was covered in Vogue, but again nothing about it was aspirational. It was actually kind of sad. Let this be a lesson to all aspiring rich fascists: if you’re going to hoard all the money in the world, the least you can do is give the peasants something tasteful to fawn over.
Le Drama of Le Creuset
Has your TikTok For You Page been inundated with women opening Le Creuset blind boxes, or is that just me? I’ve become genuinely addicted to watching their faces fall when they realize they’ve gotten a 7-quart Dutch oven in *gasp* Flame. All these women just want white or beige Le Creusets, and they look absolutely crestfallen at the audacity of receiving any hint of color.
Mind you, they’re unboxing at least $300 worth of cookware they paid $50 for. Like… sorry, but Labubu blind boxes could never deliver this level of drama.
Naturally, I had to learn more about this phenomenon. Apparently, all this drama is going down at the Le Creuset Factory-to-Table Sale. Throughout the year, Le Creuset hosts these factory sales in cities around the country. And getting tickets is apparently a total bloodbath. Thing Eras Tour Ticketmaster queue levels of chaos. Total shitshow. What’s worse? Only VIP ticket holders are eligible to purchase a blind box.
But wait, there’s more. On the day of the event, after securing your VIP ticket, you still have to spend at least $150 on other merchandise before you’re allowed to buy your $50 blind box. What in the Birkin bag are these rules?
And even then, you’re stuck with whatever you get. Allegedly, you're not allowed to resell any of it because Le Creuset tracks serial numbers. So when these women pull out a bright yellow braiser and try to keep the disappointment off their faces, it's because they know it’s theirs for life.
Now, I am not a chef by any stretch of the imagination. I mostly cook ramen and anything that fits in my air fryer. But I do love the thrill of a blind box (aka socially acceptable gambling for the girlies), so I feel deeply compelled to attend the next Le Creuset sale near me. I just have to see what I get. And you better believe I’ll be more excited than half the women on my FYP when I pull a teal sauté pan or god forbid a sunset ombré Dutch oven.
Until then, I’ll be in bed, watching from the sidelines, judging women who look personally victimized when they pull the most beautiful blue braiser with matching skillet combo known to man.
“Underground artist Billy Joel” is a hilarious line 🤣