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The Magpie Diary: Sept. 8, 2024.

By: Jen Shoop

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This past weekend, Landon and I took the children to a Renaissance Fair. I’d never been to one before, but our neighbors have taken their two daughters the past few years and sold us on it as a great event for younger children on a slow weekend. The Fair was fascinating — one of those situations where you realize how enormous the world is, and how little you know about it. It was a cross-section of dozens of fringe (or maybe, as I’ll elaborate in a second, not-fringe) cultures: gaming, anti-tech, cosplay, LARP, history buffs, paleophiles, and what I can only classify, and I don’t mean this derisively, as nerdcore? I arrived in Agolde jean shorts and Sambas and felt like a total square. The sensation of outsidership made me think a lot. Here is a place where ambient trends are “out,” where dressing to fit in with the present retail context is “uncool.” You are meant to show up in Renaissance garb (defined very, very liberally), and if you don’t, you feel marked as an observer rather than a participant. Not that anyone is unkind, or that there aren’t hundreds of other people dressed in “normal” streetwear — but most people dress up, and there is a distinct sensation of collective performance, so if you don’t, you feel as though you’re the audience of an audience. In literature, there is this concept of the “mise en abime,” where there might be a play in a play (a la “Hamlet”) or a novel in a novel (a la My Brilliant Friend). The effect normally draws us to a meta-textual place: we think about the novel/play/artwork as a whole, as a form. It is self-aware art. The same held true at the Ren Fair: I kept thinking about what it means to perform, what it means to watch. And if the Ren Fair wasn’t in some way an elaborate art installation…

Anyway, the event was fun for the children, who had their faces painted, watched various performances (my son was obsessed with a glass blower?), ate french fries, ogled at all the costumes, etc. It was a great way to pass a day doing something completely different together, even as I found myself unexpectedly walloped by theories of mise en abime and masking on a Sunday morning.

Later in the week, my Dad dropped off an article he’d torn out of The American Scholar on Seamus Heaney’s new book of letters (seen above), with my name underlined at the top. (This is a habit of his, and one of his 10 I Love Yous.) I am an enormous fan of Heaney. He read some of his poems at the University of Virginia in maybe 2004, in a hot, standing-room-only church on Rugby Road, and you could have heard a pin drop. Mesmerizing, incantatory — one of the most profound cultural experiences of my life, and not only because of his way of reading, or the brilliance of the poetry itself, but because here were hundreds of college students packed in like sardines to hear the bard speak, and I thought to myself: “people care about art, they care about poetry.” This was at a time when I was fluid with my life ambitions and self-conscious about my interest in writing, and the movement of feet on Rugby Road reassured me. Something I loved about UVA was that there was no culture of nerd-shaming; in fact, there was real reverence for those who lived on the Lawn. (At least when I attended, you had to apply to live in one of the historic rooms along the school’s Lawn, which basically meant you had to be academically gifted and heavily involved in the school’s self-governance and extracurriculars.) Still, there was a vague pecking order between the schools. It was cooler to be in
The Comm School (business) than it was in the College of Arts and Sciences. Engineering was for the really smart people, and Architecture school was for self-flagellants (and we respected them, too, even as they worked hundred hour weeks in the library). But seeing all of those peers listen, in awed silence, to Heaney made me think differently about my own interests, reified my self-direction.

In the article my Dad dropped off, the author talks a bit about Heaney’s self-awareness about his own celebrity. The article cites a letter in which Heaney writes: “Maybe it can be survived, but I’m not sure. The lookalike who goes to the platforms and the camera-calls has been robbed of much of himself.” Later, he talks about a childhood spot on the Moyola River as “one of the few places where I am not haunted or hounded by the mask of S.H.”

Of course, Heaney’s mask is quite different from the one most of us wear. None of us (I am guessing) are Nobel Laureates; we are not reading our massively popular poetry on the dais. But between the Ren Fair and the Heaney’s concept of “the lookalike” version of us who, say, leads a meeting at work or makes smalltalk with other moms at school pick-up or baby music class, I have been thinking a lot about the ways we perform, and why we do so, and how?

My guess is that most of us feel most “unmasked” when we are at home with our families. But what are the other contexts? Where and with whom do you feel most like yourself?

And onward, Magpies, into the week —

Forcing Mr. Magpie to hang art in our newly appointed living room — his most-dreaded chore. This experience made its way into this week’s musing on marriage. Haha.

Fall outfits loading for my children. This J. Crew barn coat is beyond adorable, as are these Pehr boots and quilted jackets! (20% off at Pehr with JEN-20). As I type this, I’m about to pick my children up from school and take them to the mall (yes, the mall!) to buy them new jeans for fall. My daughter is picky and the sizing can be weird, so I want her to make her choices. We’re going to Gap and J. Crew — will share what my tiny trend-setter picks. She also just picked a bunch of items from Bisby herself (!): this turtleneck, this skirt, this denim jacket, these floral pants!

We had friends over for dinner on Saturday. In the spirit of trying to cut back on other things in order to accommodate our life without (or with much less) childcare, we decided to order in the meal and just provide bar snacks, drinks, desserts. It was still a lot of errands and work (why do I make even simple things so complex?) but easier than if we’d made the entire menu. We ordered noodles, dumplings, wantons, scallion pancakes, pig ear, pickles, and a few other sides from A+J in Rockville for dinner and plated everything up on huge white platters. Before, we served a gin-citrus-aperol-bitters punch from Death & Co’s excellent cocktail book. A punch is the only way to serve a crowd cocktails without being stuck behind the bar for a long portion of the night, and their book has many options! Bar snacks included a wasabi snack mix, fancy corn nut mix (Spanish, not really on theme, but addictive), and butter/cheese straws (also no on theme, but addictive). For dessert, I made lime-coconut cookies from my favorite cookie book, and one of our guests went back for thirds. They were really, really outrageously good.

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Ren Fair! This is what I wore to it — turns out this outfit will mark you are a square! Ha. (Sezane button down // Agolde parker shorts // Adidas Sambas // Veronica Beard Goody Bag // AYR Early Mornings Tee // Celine-inspired hair claw)

In closing, some Sunday shopping poetry…

EVERLANE DENIM JACKET // UBEAUTY RESURFACING COMPOUND // VICTORIA BECKHAM X AUGUSTINUS BADER CONCEALER // LULULEMON SWEATSHIRT // ZARA KIDS JACKET // PEHR BOOTS // MANSUR GAVRIEL BAG

Quince has some fab new arrivals, including this Kule-like striped polo sweater and this Toteme-inspired whipstitch-trim “scoat.” // Meanwhile, Toteme released a longer version of its Instagram-popular OG. // Victoria Beckham released a concealer with Augustinus Bader that is generating some buzz. // I have this cinch-waist sweatshirt from Old Navy that I probably paid $15 for 10 years ago that I love and cherish. I find the cinch waist so flattering paired with leggings — you can adjust where you want it to hit on your body. I just saw Lulu has a similar item and ordered immediately. // Tuckernuck re-issued our favorite blouse in a great seasonal oxblood color. // My son’s fall boots (20% off with JEN-20). // I did end up ordering this denim barn coat I mentioned in yesterday’s post. Run! Selling fast! (Your little can twin with you in this.) // J. Crew’s bucket bag in the portobello color OR brown suede are perfection — and well-priced. My upgrade bucket bag picks: Mansur Gavriel (the seaweed color is so interesting and unexpected – reminds me of a color that Celine does) and Toteme. // I just started using UBeauty’s Resurfacing Compound — stay tuned for thoughts. This product has a lot of hype! 20% off with JENSHOOP.

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12 thoughts on “The Magpie Diary: Sept. 8, 2024.

  1. Just a couple of more thoughts—-
    Mary Oliver is such a great example of clarity while considering a hopelessly ambivalent and chaotic universe. Billy Collins provides another example And in fiction I think Toni Morrison and Ann Patchett also merge mystery, roving signifiers and multiple meanings with elegant and precise prose.

    I think it’s difficult for those of us who fell in love with literature in the late 20 th century and thus found the siren calls of modernism and postmodernism so beguiling. I once had a professor who instructed me that “ clarity is a bourgeoise concern.” We were taught to find the sublime in the often I secure play of discourse (and to doubt the very existence of the self). Now we crave authenticity and words that reach far into our hearts. How do we reconcile this need?

    But I also think mothers were postmodern before we ever knew the word as we make our ways through the sometimes discordant Real and the intersection of a multiplicity of meanings. What does the baby’s cry really mean? What’s the significance if these food groups? How is the Whole Foods parking lot (always busy, never big enough) emblematic of our lives and worlds?

    Cheers!

    1. Wow! Love these notes — “clarity is a bourgeoisie concern,” wow! That is going to stick with me for a minute. I love the notion of “roving signifiers,” and the inconstancy or multiplicity of meaning. Hadn’t thought about how some of these authors work with that paradigm. Interesting! Thank you for the provocations.

      xx

  2. Jen, I went to the Ren Fair in Maryland growing up. I loved it. Did you know there’s a fiction book series about it? It’s called Well Met by Jen Deluca. Very cute!

  3. Jen! Jen—I loved your column today. How could I not—the renaissance fair and Seamus Heaney.
    I grew up in SoCal and the big Renaissance Faur in the Valley was a cultural event.
    And Seamus Heaney relates to one of the big regrets of my life: I was a young, wanting to be so cool creative writing student at UCLA and I and another student were picked to read our poems on the stage of a large theater building and to have Heaney comment in them. I was too young!!!! I didn’t care, didn’t know, didn’t appreciate. It’s only years later that I chide myself for not paying attention and grasping the moment. Still, in the way a young child internalizes their parents’ seemingly disregarded messages, I find myself inwardly repeating Heaney’s words. Don’t be afraid to be clear, he told me (and the audience). Don’t use every word or image you have at your disposal. Edit. Be accurate with your pronouns and provide the reader with antecedents. Don’t show off.

    All I can say now is yes. And yes to your writing, Jen. I love your posts and am grateful when you share your fiction.

    1. WOW! I’m shaking in my boots just thinking about that opportunity, and so grateful you shared his wisdom here. I’d do well to pocket all of these. Especially love the “don’t show off” reminder, and “don’t be afraid to be clear.” I feel in some ways like he and Oliver shared this — both had such deceptively simple, crystal-clear imagery.

      Thank you, friend!!

      xx

  4. Ren Faire sounds really fun! Even if you felt like a square the whole time. It’s so good to get out of our comfort zones in that way. This also reminds me that there was this long-sleeved green velvet Hill House dress for sale a few winters ago- I tried it on at their pop-up in Soho and sent it to some friends, one of whom deemed it “Ren Faire ready” and said it was giving “wench vibes.” Lol.

    1. YES – so true about getting out of your comfort zone, seeing yourself in a new light, feeling dissonant, etc! xx

  5. Hi Jen! I grew up growing to Renn faires, and my mom made costumes for all of us each year and got really into it, we’d bring my whole Girl Scout troupe. For renaissance “ish” go look for a cincher on Etsy (sort of a little corset thing that goes at the waist) and wear it over any of your long flowy dresses, one of your Doen ones would probably be great. My brothers always had a T-shirt two sizes too big that my mom would iron a fleur de lis or dragon onto (as their tunic) and wear their black athletic leggings from soccer. And she made musketeer hats by stapling black foam cowboy hats around an ostrich feather on one side. She’d usually buy me a flower crown when we got there, and we’d get turkey legs and cheesecake on a stick. This was in the pre-Etsy days so I’m sure our costumes were from some combo of JoAnn’s/Walmart/Michael’s.

    1. Kelly, this is such a brilliant suggestion for how to make a slightly modern, Ren Faire-adjacent outfit! I have been admiring some corset-style third-piece tops at Salter House (Brooklyn/NYC) — they have a Liberty floral one that has been haunting me (complimentary!) It would look so good over a solid or subtle stripe Dôen-type dress — kind of a modern dirndl effect. LOVE this idea!

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