I Wish I May vs. I Wish I Might
The difference between a shopping cart that makes it to checkout and one that exists forever in the multi-tab void.
Hello netizens! I feel like we really dropped the ball on making that word common parlance. In the wish-listiest season of the year, there’s a lot we can learn about ourselves: our priorities become clearer as we whittle down our wants to suggestively share with our loved ones or indulge in ourselves. I’m not a big holiday gifter—I prefer to gift at random, not having the patience to wait weeks or months after finding something special I know a friend or family member needs in their life—so my holiday shopping usually involves scraping together holiday bonuses to finally pull trig on a few special pieces, consummating in my shopping carts the desires that built up over the spring and summer. I might write a gift guide (but I’m actually creating a few for a non-Esque project, so maybe not—I’ll share whatever ends up coming out!), but more compelling to me this week are the purchases I’ve either made or am strategizing toward and how they differ from things I desire but don’t see myself likely purchasing.
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I’m a vocab nerd, as might seem evident if you’ve been reading the blog for a while (any vocab mishaps I’ve made were obviously planted to make sure you were paying attention to my scrivening!), and I recently learned that one of the ways to differentiate the words “may” and “might” is the fact that “may” can indicate a higher likelihood or probability than “might.” It’s not wrong to use the two terms flexibly, but I was charmed by this pedantry and felt like I could use it to organize my wish list: I wish I may vs. I wish I might. Oh well, it sounded cute and sensible when I came up with it while selling a collection of my beloved anime figurines for $1.50 a pop today so I can afford my vices as of late:
I Wish I May
Ok, apparently these are made by some off-brand Mr. Beast YouTube star, but I hd been looking for lower-sugar watermelon candy for weeks, trying every option I could find, and tucking into this pack was a glorious experience compared to the consistently foul flavors I’d found in the other brands’ bags. I don’t like my sweets to be *too* sweet, but these are sweet enough with like 14 grams of sugar in a whole bag as opposed to the unholy 75 GRAMS in a pack of regular watermelon treats.
I love fats and other forms of carbs and am not one to moralize about food, but when I’m eating candy, I don’t like feeling like I have to carefully count out a puny portion in order not to accidentally dose myself with what sometimes feels stronger than the speed lite I’m prescribed. More importantly, the flavor is EXACTLY what it should be, the level of sour is flawlessly gauged (I am not a fan of candy so sour it hurts to eat more than one), and the aftertaste is quite pleasant. Their only shortcoming is they aren’t as chewy as I’d like them to be, but a few hours in the fridge fixes that right up. And they’re vegan! Hypebeast YouTuber man—I sure hope you don’t have any skeletons in your closet because I need you to stay un-canceled for the sake of these candies.
You probably know that Poog, the loosely-wellness-based podcast progeny of comedians Jacqueline Novak and Kate Berlant, has ended for some inscrutable legal reasons, replaced immediately by essentially the same thing under a different name (and now you have to pay for each episode :/). Before the merch ran out, I got my sister and I matching Poog caps—a low-key, tasteful way to signal that we were there back when.
I was SO excited to see that Big Bud has started producing mid-rise trousers and work pants—my loathing for high waists only grows by the day—and I hope to take advantage of the brand’s insane 30% off site-wide BFCM deal (you also get a really cool freebie with a purchase over $100 pre-discount, different every day of the sale—I want the socks) to get them for 80 bucks. I should probably stick with basic black, as I am somehow in constant need of black trousers, no matter how many pairs I buy, but also:
I’m really feeling cobalt/Klein blue right now. I’m not sure why.
On that note, I bid on these:
And I know what you’re thinking. Em, you can barely walk and have every lower-body injury known to humankind. What are you doing with these flat-as-a-pancake insoles. My friends, I am not strong enough to wear the fugly running shoes every single day, and by doing so I’ve worn them down to a point where they’re hardly any more comfortable than the above, so I’m just going to get an insole and wear them when I don’t have to walk a long distance and that’s that. The black stripes somehow feel more deluxe and less hokey than the white stripes, and I love the texture on the tongue and classic gum sole. I know, I’m making my own bed, and I’ll have to lie in it, but at least the duvet will be cute.
These, on the other hand, I have high hopes for, comfort-wise—I’ve never met a Merrell that didn’t feel as healthy as a prune, and I like that these don’t have tie-up laces because I am always in a hurry to get my shoes on and off and also it hurts to bend down. OK, I KNOW THE GAZELLES WERE A STUPID IDEA. But anyway, these Merrells might be intended for children? I can’t tell if they’re ok-looking or offensively ugly—will keep you updated.
I have never felt fancier in my life than upon receiving a gift from the Ritz-Carlton x Late Checkout collab. The union of the two brands serves to exaggerate and emphasize the latter’s Grand Budapest Hotel-ian sensibilities designed to evoke an almost trippy element of trip-taking: clothes that feel like the sartorial equivalent of a penthouse suite overlooking Central Park. I am so grateful to have gotten to experience Sebastian Flyte-level sweater luxury:
The colors are simply perfect, the V-neck is the exact right depth to look good either over a collared shirt or worn alone, the sleeves accommodated my short, stubby arms with a single cuff, and the hem cinches and slouches exactly how an oversized sweater should. I’m deeply in love with it and if I were Veronica Lodge, this is the kind of preppy centerpiece I’d be buying to incorporate into a prippie look. More stylings to come.
This sweatshirt, though its arms were tragically too long for those stubby little extremities of mine (it will find its home on my sister’s limbs!), was also platonic ideal: thick, sturdy cotton with the perfect amounts of structure and slouch equally, and oh yes, of course the logo is thickly embroidered with pristine, sheen-y threads. Again, I’m not in the position to afford these pieces myself, but they are excellent at being what they are and I’m lucky to have gotten to try them out! Thanks, Late Checkout, and Ritz-Carlton… wanna put me up in one of your hotels next? ;)
I’ve written about these special cords before in the context of my obsession with this outfit:
So, yeah, I basically want to just recreate it. That’s where the blue sneaker thing got in my head too, I think—all I need is a black button-up and a red beret. My grandma actually got me a gold chain today to match hers, so that part of the fit is sorted! Now, to work on the abs… :|
I have loved short king jean haven Nelle Atelier for a long time and the lovely people there have responded in kind, letting me try out new styles (a perk of being a fashion nerd under 5’3). The Claire is my favorite, and its new sapphire wash brings me close to The Jean: a platonic ideal jean that will probably be my lifelong White Whale, inspired by a throwaway paragraph in the work of literature I believe is titled either You are So Not Invited to my Bat Mitzvah! or How to be Popular (I’m too scared to research any further) in which an intrepid protagonist throws on the *perfect* pair of age-faded jeans, her little brother’s cartoon T-shirt, and some Chucks, her inexplicably flawless natural curls she’d spent the whole book frying with a straightener flowing behind her as she biked to confess her love or win back her best friend or something of the sort.
I know this seems very far from fashion inspiration, but I am being honest when I tell you that that unillustrated snippet sent me on a forever quest for jeans that are straight-legged, juuuust touch the laces of my shoes, aren’t too high-waisted, and have a gorgeous blue wash that fades with aplomb. These jeans might be as close as I can get—will report back after I’ve biked to confess my love to someone, boobs squished into my eight-year-old brother’s Pokemon T-shirt.
Feel free to boo and hiss. I’m not proud of shopping from Am*zon, but once a year, I re-up on socks and underwear. This year, something gluttonous and vain (two out of seven, not bad!) inside of me wanted TWENTY PAIRS OF BEAUTIFUL SOCKS instead of a few pairs of more functional socks, so I got these. They really are beautiful—I’ll let you know how they hold up after a few washes…
Same sentiment re: Sk*ms, but unfortunately a change in my medication routine led to… er… exponential growth in my chest size over the course of six months, meaning I can no longer live the braless life I had cherished for decades. The Universe is so cruel, giving (sort of) big naturals to someone who wants to be completely tit-free instead of the many bare-chested beauties who would happily rock cleavage. Anyway, I hope this “sculpting” bra has some of the constriction of a binder with the overall comfort of a bralette. Will report back.
I’ve been lucky enough to get to work with the fine fragrance company Fulton and Roark on some cool coming-soon stuff, and I’ve gotten to huff my fair share of their collection (the $60 discovery set is well worth it). My favorites have all been surprises, not at all fitting the profiles of scents I typically gravitate toward: Hwy 190, intoxicating with creamy freesia and heady myrrh, Perpetua, an ineffable combination of amber and jasmine fit for everyday wear, and the brand’s pride and joy, Calle Ocho, a chocolatey, spicy, but still fresh and kinetic scent rounded out with a dash of rum. I can’t tell if I want the full-sized bottles of these scents or the solid fragrances—the latter probably makes more sense for my vagabond lifestyle, eh?
I Wish I Might
I’ve wanted a straw cloche hat with a brim exactly like the above unavailable Laura Ashley number ever since, I believe, Tavi Gevinson shared a pic of master knitwear creator Yokoo like 12 years ago:
I have not, for the life of me, been able to find one quite so compact, so tightly-woven, so perfectly domed. If you ever catch one in the wild, please let me know via DM or email. Closest I’ve come are little chapeaus like this one:
But see, it’s too shallow—looks like it’d perch on the head rather than encase it like a straw helmet. I will keep my eyes peeled.
I’ve always wanted a Deiji Studios set, but I just *know* the lengths of the legs and sleeves are made for limby SSENSE models and I would end up swimming in a wrinkled linen puddle. For what it’s worth, I love the subtle underarm tie!
This is just silly, and that’s a good thing. Feels very Jewish, but maybe that just comes from my sense memory of rings of Manischewitz staining silken tablecloths every Passover I spent in seders. This would be a funny and possibly very fruitful DIY—I think the dress would benefit from going a bit harder with the wine stains, actually— a bit darker, at least.
The perfect shade of pink. I think Brooke Callahan made a limited edition of her famous tie pants in this exact shade, but since they’re not being widely distributed, this is an alternative—nice, thick fabric, too. I can never tell how to wear pink, but these tempt me to try.
This J. Kim top feels like the precise thing you’d want to throw on for a last-minute party invite. It won’t look bad if you store it all crunched up, it goes with anything, it’s a conversation-starting level of interesting, and the subtle green stitching is genuinely moving.
I almost never wear earrings, but the quality of Sapir’s baubles leads me to believe that this price is insane, and the shape and droop of these hoops kind of makes me want to cry in a good way.
You all know about how half of my Bat Mitzvah Torah portion was about Lapis Lazuli—that, plus the fact that the Beach House tune plays loudly in my skull every time I see the words written, makes the material feel so underrated, in my opinion.
This belt reminds me of this photo from the prippie prospectus:
I think it’s be perfect with a twee button-up and cardigan combo, loose linen trousers, leather sandals, and punk-ass eyeliner, as seen above.
I love Edward Cuming so much even though the label’s pieces, even on sale, are consistently astronomical—but like the fact that this is called the “Intestine camisole”? Everything EC makes feels like it’d be worn by a hip Zoomer trapped and rent open in a Francis Bacon painting.
Though I’m largely bored with Collina (and very suspicious of its use of AI), I have loved the muscle concept since I saw it on last year’s runway. I miss the Fashion Brand Company dress I used to own because the Collina show inspired me so much:
My internet friend Jada alerted me to these:
because both our feet are Bad and these are ostensibly constructed with orthopedic ergonomics in mind. The white are similar and probably more wearable (though I am, as I mentioned, going through a blue fetish phase right now), but I love the crooked laces on both, like makeshift stitches holding a doll’s limbs onto its torso.
These feel like if JW Anderson’s Bumper Bag went to the Twin Peaks lodge and had shoe babies. It could happen!
This perfume, funnily enough, is very similar to the Fulton and Roark scent Perpetua I mentioned above, though they seem to share no notes—both are ineffable, and honestly, kind of confusing. Maybe it’s the amber/ambrette (I imagine ambrette as Amber with eyelashes like the girl cars in Cars)? It could be the ambroxan, another amber-related scent component, which I imagine as the Shadow to amber’s Sonic. Anyway, now that I’ve fully made a farce of my interpretation of perfumes, I’ll just say this might be my favorite scent of all time and Phoebe Bridgers allegedly wears it too. What a world!
All I really want for the holidays, though, is for you to keep reading this blog and maybe sharing it with your lovers and haters. It means so much to me that you’re here and I am so happy I am too.
<3 ESK
I’m delighted with your discovery of the distinction between might and may, Esque. I always enjoy your posts and this article confirms it. I almost never read these gift guides, but I think you and I share similar slightly wacky taste. Yes to the Campers, they are excellent, comfy shoes.💕 Also tickled by your reference to Veronica Lodge.💜
if the skims bralette doesn't work out may i also suggest this aerie bra? I don't know exactly how it performs for larger chests but on me (more of an A cup I fear), I end up looking flatter than ever. and it's incredibly comfortable! https://www.ae.com/ca/en/p/aerie/bras/lightly-lined-bras/smoothez-bra-ish-wireless-bralette/2693_3189_153?menu=cat4840006