one for the luddites: long live the print issue
what your indie mag affliction says about your sartorial self
Today we’re starting with a book club controversy (oh, the drama). There’s an eternal divide in mine: do you listen or do you read? The majority listen, but a few stalwarts (me included) insist on buying the actual book. Each path is its own experience. For those of us who read, we miss out on the fiery debate about the narrator’s voice: was it additive? British? The author’s voice or an A-List celebrity who would like us to know she too reads? I don’t have much of a choice in these crosshairs. If I listen, my mind wanders. I have to place myself solely in custody of the book in order to wean out the minutiae of my brain.
Each decade, there is a moment when reading becomes zeitgeisty again. Libraries are being hailed as a chic “new” interior design trend. Celebrity book clubs have been hot for some time (Reese. Kendall. Emma. Kaia. Aside: Somehow always started by women? Does Harrison Ford have a book club I don’t know about?) AD did a story on how to achieve bookshelf wealth. And a host of gorgeous, niche independent magazines are thriving, with rich content and beautiful, original imagery.
I don’t blame the belletrists. I too love the look of a library; a cozy, eclectic jewel box, potentially with lacquered shelving. A reading nook, with a teddy mohair armchair that you can curl into, alone, in those rare moments when everything is still. Stacks and stacks of books.
I gravitate towards the opposite: quirky, eclectic collections of books, often stacked haphazardly, because when you read a lot - and even more so when you write a lot - you’re always going back to the stacks.
Looking for a dog-eared page with a phrase you liked, a word you can’t remember or a paragraph that haunts you, nagging you in the eeriness of night until you find it.
When we were shooting my house for AD, the stylist told me to hide my actual books in favor of a cleaner display of coffee table books and objects. The books were too random: some very old, some new, an array of colors and typographies and subjects. She was probably right visually (though that shot didn’t even make it in), but I always gravitate towards the opposite: quirky, eclectic collections of books, often stacked haphazardly, because when you read a lot - and even more so when you write a lot - you’re always going back to the stacks. Looking for a dog-eared page with a phrase you liked, a word you can’t remember or a paragraph that haunts you, nagging you in the eeriness of night until you find it.
I love the tactility of print. As someone who worked in magazines for years, there is a rare idleness that accompanies leafing through a gorgeous specimen of print: be it a hard cover book, a glossy magazine, or in our youth, the Delia*s catalog, its own case study of identity and aspiration. A moment when time, or the passing of it at least, ceases to taunt us.
Lucky for us, we’re in a print magazine resurgence. And even more rare, in a world where Conde EICs are now regional Editorial Directors stripped of town cars (read: power), many of these indie titles are helmed by whip smart creatives who have the leeway to present their vision of the world. Some are stalwarts (Sarah Harrelson’s Cultured, Penny Martin’s The Gentlewomen, Martina Mondadori’s Cabana), some are young upstarts (Daytona William’s Neptune Papers, Joshua Lance Glass’s Family Style), but there’s something for every aesthetic affliction.
She’s a Casa CABANA girl:

The Gritti holds a room for you for the Biennale. Your family home is a stop on the Cabana x Prior architectural tour, which you only said yes to because you’re dear friends with Martina and David. You have a closet of vintage furs, restored to perfection.
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A GENTLEWOMEN, indeed:

You have the MUM necklace from Phoebe’s first drop. When you stare out the window on the train from London to Paris, you think earnestly about the state of the world, and your place in it. Plain English Kitchens and De Vol fought over who would do your country home.
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Oh, so you’re CULTURED:

You go to Basel, but leave on Thursday. You shop trunkshow on Moda. You chuckle knowingly when you listen to Nota Bene.
Subscribe here. And find out what Sarah Harrelson’s fashion armor is here.
It’s all in the FAMILY (STYLE):

You’ve eaten at all the We are Ona pop ups, even the one in Milan during Salone. You wear hot pants, and look great in them. You were an extra in Kids and a mainstay at Club Christie, but now you secretly live uptown by the park.
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Take me to the NEPTUNE PAPERS:

You live in that upstate commune of case study homes next to Olympia Gayot. You shoot grainy photos on film as a summer pastime, and you’re quite good at it. You’re on a first name basis with at least half of Galerie Half’s secret web of European antique dealers.
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And a few other favorites from me and OOD readers if you’re looking to support the art of print: Mother Tongue, Cherry Bombe, Perfect, 10, In Kind (also on substack:In Kind on Monday ), Dossier, For Scale (also on substack: FOR SCALE ), JAMB Journal and Mountain Gazette. And please comment with your favorites below - I’m sure I missed some great ones.
If you enjoyed this piece, please consider hearting below. It helps non-subscribers see this story. Also, if you click on something, I may earn a (very small) commission. You’ll see that I sometimes link to the same things as in past newsletters. That’s because if you buy something, I want you to wear it, and I think it’s helpful to see pieces you own in different contexts and outfits. Thank you!! xx NRB
FROM THE ARCHIVES…



I smiled the entire time I read this. Print girlies for life!
this gave me an enourmous dopamine hit! blisssssss