Honey No. 63
Feat. the time I stole a thong from my grandma, and some New York recs
Hellooo my friends! Happy Easter to those who celebrate! This week I’m back home in suburban New York, visiting my mom and brother and a smattering of other wonderful family members for a quick hello. It seems that spring is spronging every other day here- a chilly night when I got here, but sunshine and a million little blooms to spot in the grass the next morning. Yesterday it was 85 degrees and perfect, so my family and I decided to spend the afternoon wandering the neighboring town of Katonah- one I’ve made a lot of special memories in.
When I was growing up, I was so lucky to have grandparents who lived close by. When I was ages baby-through-toddler we all lived in Manhattan, and my grandma would take me every Wednesday to give my mom a much-needed break. She would pour me bowls of sprinkles that I’d eat with a spoon, we’d swing by Shoofly (the perfect kids’ shoe store uptown- did anyone else go? Now they’re just on eBay, RIP brick and mortar!), and have “races” to see who could eat a slice of pizza faster, “but just eating at your normal speed” (my instructions, she always won?). My grandma was one of my Life’s Most Special People, and those Wednesdays together were foundational.
Over the years we all moved to the suburbs, and “Wednesdays” with my grandma were woven into more daily life. Though she had always functioned as an important adult in my nuclear family, my parents’ divorce when I was in middle school thrust her into an even more crucial role. My grandma would take me to the doctor when my mom was working, occasionally walking into the cafeteria to find me, which was mortifying because no one in 6th grade was supposed to know I had a family. She would pick me up from school to drive me to acting classes, the inside of her car covered with post-it notes detailing numbers she’d like me to save to her new cell phone’s contacts. And sometimes, more importantly than going to the doctor or whatever, she would take me shopping.
Our pilgrimage often led us to the mall, where I would pick out a coveted top or two from the cologne drenched cavern that was 2000’s Abercrombie. But sometimes, when we wanted to breath clean air, we would swing by a little boutique in Katonah called Boo Girls. Boo Girls had cute clothes, sparkly jewelry, and bossy New York broads at the register who weren’t afraid to tell you what was up. The first person to tell me I needed a bra was an employee at Boo Girls- I tried on a white shirt in sixth grade, and when I walked out of the dressing room, she was like, honey, no!, and sent me back in with a training bra. I was mortified, and she didn’t give a shit. Welcome to Boo Girls, honey. Your tits look weird now.
As we’ve discussed in detail, middle school was also the time when I scrounged up the chutzpah to ask my weary, newly-divorced mom for my first thong. To my surprise she said yes, but to my chagrin she insisted that I select the modest options of plain black and white cotton. Though I treasured these tokens of womanhood, and took painstaking notes logging the days of their use, I longed for a “prettier” option, for reasons unknown, even to me. So you can imagine my delight when one night at Boo Girls, I saw it: a tiny, pink, fishnet thong packaged in a little tiny ball at the register, where they keep treats like candy and underwear that goes up the butt. And for just $12!
The only problem was, I was there with my grandma. My grandma who loudly declared how much she missed her period, who was there to support me when I was shamed into my first bra, who proudly talked about her body and its functions from the time I was small. My intensely fashionable, aethestically-driven, cheeky, bold, loving, shameless grandma. How could she possibly understand what it was like to yearn for a small and beautiful thing?
When we got to the car I knew what to do: I gathered up my courage and lied to my grandmother’s face. “Oh!” I declared, acting lessons paying off in spades. “I just remembered I need to get my gooood friend a present for her bat mitzvah. I saw some lip gloss at the register that cost exactly $12, I think. Could I please have that exact amount in cash and I’ll be right back?” And maybe it’s because my grandma believed in me, or maybe it’s because she, too, had been an almost-teenage girl, but she gave me the cash that night and waited in the car and never asked to see the lip gloss.
Did I ever wear the thong, you ask? Oh my god, no, nothing like that. It was fishnet for crying out loud. And how would I have washed it?! But sometimes just knowing that something so precious is tucked away in the corner of your underwear drawer is enough to keep you going, at least through eighth grade. And sometimes, if it’s safe, it’s sweet to let kids have a secret.
Some things of note from my NY times…
My mom stocks up on Teagevity teas at her local farmer’s market and honey, they are SOOO GOOD!! I am a big tea head and drink tons of looseleaf blends in my own home, but each of these blends has an extra flavor that makes them so unique and delicious. I’ve been loving the sleep tea, the masala chai, and the longevity blend, but I’m sure you can’t go wrong!
I have only ever seen a bugzooka at my mom’s house, but let me tell you, it solves A LOT of problems. There is a sort of vaccum feature at the front which is activated by a spring feature in the back so you can capture a bug without killing it and, perhaps most importantly, without getting close to it at all. My mom and step-dad crucially use it for catching stink bugs (which, of course, stink when you smush them), but it’s good for all sorts of guys. Too small for the big cockroaches unfortunately, though believe me, I’ve tried. Lmk if you want my highly coveted and violent roach technique though ;)
I only developed seasonal allergies in the past few years, and I’m loving them so far! Too much zyrtec can make me super brain foggy, but the herbal blend Golden Air from Dragon Herbs has been helping me a lot! I brought some on a hunch that my allergies might follow me home and having been taking them every day, to great effect.
Do you know about peepers? They’re little New York frogs (and probably other places, but I only know these guys) that sing at night when spring has started, and I’ve been hearing them this week. They really sound like home to me :). Do you have peepers where you’re from?
Hope your day is good, my pals. Sending you big squeezes and peeps!
xx Olivia