Related Recs

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Read my new substack post On coming of age in the time of Lana Del Rey and witnessing the birth of a new generation of coquette brain rot

This was a fun one it was a little touchy trying to write about my experiences without being salacious and I don’t think my mom is going to like reading it but I hope you enjoy 🫶

@taterhole

Sep 8, 2024

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My new substack piece on diva music, desire and death

I analyse two songs, one by Lana Del Rey and one by FKA Twigs in light of Caroline Polachek’s statements about diva music. #shamelessselfpromotion #shamelessselfrec

@jessisonline

Mar 16, 2024

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Roman à Clef Writing as Healing

(Subrec: retiring the term autofiction)! Writing about one of the most significant periods of transformation in my life has reminded me of my experiences in EMDR therapy: returning to the moments that shaped me—the sublime, the horrific, and everything in between—not just to relive them, but to recontextualize them. Through this process, I revisit the past, weaving empathy and perspective into old wounds, transforming them into narratives that help me heal rather than haunt me. Writing this chapter wasn’t easy; even after all the personal work I’ve done, I still hadn’t fully unpacked much of what I explored here. But in the same way EMDR therapy creates new mental pathways, confessional writing allows me to create new emotional pathways. What once felt overwhelming now feels like part of a larger, layered story—a story I get to write on my own terms, with dark humor, empathy, and grace. This chapter is about the seeds of identity, love, and longing being planted in the soil of a viscerally chaotic and often violent childhood, and the thorned rose that breaks forth out of this poisoned soil, delicate and sharp, a reflection of resilience built in tandem with pain. Not even my closest friends fully understood the depth of my experiences until I opened up to them recently. Sharing this chapter feels like baring my soul in a way that’s both terrifying and liberating, but after being silent for so long, I believe in the power of raw, confessional storytelling—not just to connect with others, but to heal. Part 1 introduces the narrator’s restless haze living in her desert hometown one year after high school graduation, working at a twee Wes Anderson-themed restaurant and drifting without direction. A chance encounter with an old acquaintance draws her back into his social circle, sparking a journey into memory. Part 2 delves into the complex history behind this connection, revealing the tangled ties that bind her and the unresolved emotions that shape her path forward. I’m so excited to share Part 2, ‘Seeds Planted,’ with you. It’s layered and deeply personal—another piece of my journey that I’m honored to offer to you. I’m looking forward to hearing how it speaks to you, or how you’ve found your own ways of recontextualizing the past.

@taterhole

Jan 12, 2025

2

Top Recs from @taterhole

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Never changing

My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌

@taterhole

Feb 23, 2025

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🕊

Finally Quitting the job that you hate

Schedule sent my resignation email for the morning, effective immediately ✅💅

@taterhole

Feb 27, 2025

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🖐

Rejecting the Commodification of the Self

I’ve been thinking about how much of social media is centered around curating our self-image. When selfies first became popular, they were dismissed as vain and vapid—a critique often rooted in misogyny—but now, the way we craft our online selves feels more like creating monuments. We try to signal our individuality, hoping to be seen and understood, but ironically, I think this widens the gap between how others perceive us and who we really are. Instead of fostering connection, it can invite projection and misinterpretation—preconceived notions, prefab labels, and stereotypes. Worse, individuality has become branded and commodified, reducing our identities to products for others to consume. On most platforms, validation often comes from how well you can curate and present your image—selfies, aesthetic branding, and lifestyle content tend to dominate. High engagement is tied to visibility, not necessarily depth or substance. But I think spaces like PI.FYI show that there’s another way: where connection is built on shared ideas, tastes, and interests rather than surface-level content. It’s refreshing to be part of a community that values thoughts over optics. By sharing so few images of myself, I’ve found that it gives others room to focus on my ideas and voice. When I do share an image, it feels intentional—something that contributes to the story I want to tell rather than defining it. Sharing less allows me to express who I am beyond appearance. For women, especially, sharing less can be a radical act in a world where the default is to objectify ourselves. It resists the pressure to center appearance, focusing instead on what truly matters: our thoughts, voices, and authenticity. I’ve posted a handful of pictures of myself in 2,500 posts because I care more about showing who I am than how I look. In trying to be seen, are we making it harder for others to truly know us? It’s a question worth considering.

@taterhole

Dec 27, 2024

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