It's an American… Something!
The apple pie and baseball of newsletters is close-reading a comeback, popping another lorazepam, and channeling our inner Brit.
Welcome to Spreadlandia, where two veteran editors read it ALL to winnow out only the best: juicy yarns, big ideas, deeply personal essays, and hot goss—aka, the full Spread. Plus: original interviews, podcasts, and more. Come hungry!
Spreadstars,
Let’s say it together: Wow, that happened fast! We thought we’d have to wait until at least 2026 for the gift of Olivia Nuzzi to keep on giving again. But lo, just in time for the holidays: Her literary personal history-slash-“account of the warping of America,” American Canto, is on its way to the printer (it pubs December 2, and if you’re going to pre-order, please do so from the Spread Bookshop here). We decided to take a page from (i.e. rip off entirely) Emma Specter’s addictive Vogue column and share “40 Thoughts We Had While Reading the New York Times’ Nuzzi First Look,” which captured the “modern iteration of a Hitchcock blonde” cruising around LA in her Mustang convertible—and had the chattering classes (hi) stackin’, tweetin’, and ’castin’ at breakneck speed. There is also the bonkers book excerpt in Vanity Fair (with a photoshoot almost identical to the Times’ shoot); play-by-plays in the Guardian and the Washington Post; and Slate rehash so deep that we needed a shower after reading. But for us, it was the Times Styles story that took the cake. Read along with us here.
[Friday afternoon, fifteen different people text us the link to the story, all at the same moment.] Oh boy oh boy oh boy! A Red Ryder carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle!
Is this a spot for Celine eyewear? Or wait, the Ford Motor Company? It’s a Mustang ad, surely. Or maybe Rolex? Where is a Matthew McConaughey voiceover when you need one?
Oh, to be flies on the wall during the meeting at the Times where somebody’s like, “I know, let’s put her in the driver’s seat!”
How many times has RFK Jr. watched this clip?
How many times has Cheryl Hines watched this clip?
Cheryl Hines is friends with Tig Notaro but also Linda McMahon. Nothing makes sense. [Thursday morning update, via Spreadfan Valerie Monroe: “Hard pass,” says Tig, restoring order to a small yet meaningful part of our universe.]
Literally any woman writer they could have assigned to this would be far more judgmental. Or at least skeptical. Or you know, journalistic.
How would a Spready woman write about the phenomenon of Olivia Nuzzi and her erotic capital? We hope to find out in the coming weeks.
Nope, can’t do it. Even for the sake of our Spread readers, we cannot linger on an unbearable intro about love and the “blue as a flame” eyes of the man who might be the reason we all get measles at Disney World this year. Scrolling on!
The sheer ballsiness of calling this book American Canto.
Dude, we’re not getting any proof—no text messages, no receipts? Dare we call that a bit… Trumpy?
Avid Reader Press does love a hot blonde who declines to provide backup.
The fact that the writer met Nuzzi “sitting under a pine tree in Los Angeles last month.” So specific, so utterly random.
Yep, copies of the King James Bible and The Divine Comedy are just resting on my dining room table, too! Nothing to do with a Times reporter dropping by!
How is this woman still only 32?
How was she only 24 when New York hired her as its Washington correspondent?
What would have become of this story if Nuzzi wasn’t a “Hitchcock blonde” with what looks to be a 19-inch waist?
Reimagine the digital affair between RFK Jr and someone age appropriate and salty like, say, Maggie Haberman.
To what extent did Olivia Nuzzi herself stage direct this interview, the setup, this landscape1, this black leather jacket, this choice of writer? Like, omg, is she in the driver seat on this whole thing?! Is she…a genius?
Gosh, it would be to fun read Nuzzi-style reporting—dishy, sly in a way that pretty much nobody else is doing these days—on Trump 2.0.
“What is a politician?,” she writes in the book. “Any man who wants to be loved more than other men and through his pursuit reveals why he cannot love himself.”
Man men man men man men….
Enter from stage left, ex-fiancé Ryan Lizza.
Nuzzi, Lizza, Nuzzi, Lizza, Nuzzi, Lizzzzzzzzzz
The height of her intimacy with RFK Jr was watching him floss on Facetime?
If a tree falls in the forest and exchanges a lot of texts but never gets laid, can you call it a sex scandal and write a whole book about it?
She knew he took drugs that deliver “near death experiences.”
She knew he was 39 years older.
She knew about the bear carcass.
And the worm which he seemingly only knew wasn’t a worm because the New York Times reported it.
And yet “she liked him just the way he was.”
“If it’s just sex, I can survive it,” he told her. Oh he is an actual Kennedy after all.
“Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)” casually cued up on her Spotify playlist. ✔️✔️
Did we already know that “mentor” Kara Swisher was the one who ratted her out to the New York higher ups?
Thank god we are not getting too deep down in the muck of Nuzzi v. Lizza.
But also…it doesn’t seem possible that LIzza will docilely give her the last word. [Cut to Monday’s Substack post, “Part 1: How I Found Out,” which includes a whole raft of new accusations].
So Nuzzi’s book about her affair pays off the shared Lizza/Nuzzi debt to Avid? (Booky folks, please call our 24-hour tip line at 1-800-SPR-EADY.)
She got hired as Vanity Fair’s West Coast editor before she told them she was writing this book?
Bam, Mark Guiducci! Suddenly everywhere, all at once.
Should we write her a thank-you note? This is too much fun.
On Friday, we would have called this round for Olivia, but so much can happen in the life of a political scandal over the course five long days. Add one unearthing of a popstar alter ego named Lizzy and a new Mark Sanford rumor thrown onto the fire by Lizza (who wants you to know he’s having THE BEST YEAR OF HIS LIFE and that he once built a shoe rack for Nuzzi). Now who’s actually seating chart seems slightly less clear.
Jesus, take the wheel.
Rachel & Maggie
P.S. Actual press release subject line of the week: “Do You Argue with Your Partner More in Winter? 6 Proven Foods to Stop”
PPS: If you’re having fun here, please hit that ❤️ button!
We’re just getting warmed up! Also in this issue:
The real life Victoria Ratliff, at your service
Hilma af Klint, controversial cool-girl artist of the moment (d. 1944)
Big Child-Free Energy
How to deal with your parents’ 17 sets of china.
Through the “Looker” glass
Tina Brown, in the house
Patti Smith, on the mic
A catastrophic event that will definitely impact your kids (how’s that for fearmongering?)
Lena Dunham unrolls the tape
What happens when your coolest, wisest aunt sits down for a chat with your ex-boyfriend (whom you insist you are wishing well!)?
Patti Smith doesn’t want to be one of Ezra Klein’s many friends. (Anyone else notice how he’s always talking about his “many, many” friends who just happen to be convenient, real-world examples of whatever issue is at hand? Like, we know the guy is popular, but…) In the 78-year-old godmother of punk’s interview on the Ezra Klein Show, she is crystal clear that she’s no fan of his Abundance agenda, and her remarks are a masterclass in the classy sick burn (“We could get into a very unhappy discussion because you and I are on different sides of the fence ….So I can’t get into a discussion with you about that because we have different ideas,” she says, before coolly dipping at least one big toe into her argument). Still, in the latest installment of EKS-as-women’s magazine, Klein has done his homework—he’s read Just Kids “many” times!—and excels in letting the “shamanic” Smith really talk. She has a great riff of on her relationship with Bob Dylan (“we circled around like two pit bulls, sizing each other up), and at one point, when reflecting on the staying power of 1975’s Horses, she is moved to tears, considering how many of her closest co-conspirators of that era are no longer around (Robert Mapplethorpe; Sam Shepherd; her brother, Todd included). Close EKS followers will note that contrary to the show’s typical video format, Patti’s interview is audio only—how’s that for a flex?
Literally and spiritually wrestling with the burden of STUFF
With the holiday deluge about to rain down upon us all, writers are digging through our collective feelings about all the stuff we don’t know what the hell to do with. Like: the 10,000 Pez dispensers and a leftover stash of Studio 54-era small-c coke that one son inherited from his mom in Chris Rovzar’s Bloomberg Businessweek story about the $90 trillion Great Wealth Transfer, and +/- $90 kabillion worth of dust collectors, knick knacks, and novelty salt shakers being passed down from Boomers to their Gen X and (non-home-owning) millennial spawn. If this keeps you up at night, take heart: For the right price, professional organizers will come to your rescue!
Meanwhile, Wirecutter makes a welcome break from its usual format for Annemarie Conte’s exploration of the tsunami of stuff we return to Amazon and other retailers, and its strange afterlife. Comforting: It’s not actually just shipped directly to some floating dump in the middle of the Arctic Ocean. Disturbing: Instead it piles up (and up and up) in wholesale-pallet warehouses, from which it can be purchased in bulk and “flow back into the system,” largely via resale businesses. Conte convinced her editors to spring for a 450-lb pallet of mystery crap for $742, which she and three colleagues spent two whole days dissecting and cataloguing. Family, friends: Maybe this is the year we get serious about those “experience” gifts?
Read “Boomers Are Passing Down Fortunes — And Way, Way Too Much Stuff.” Bloomberg, Chris Rovzar” here.
Read “We Bought a 450-Pound Mystery Pallet Packed With Returned Goods From Amazon and Beyond. Here’s What We Found Inside” here.
Just say White Lotus and “richer than god” and we’re there.
Forgive us, readers, for taking this long to connect the dots between lorazepam-popping, nightgown-loving Victoria Ratliff—the Spread’s early 2025 spirit animal—and her real-life inspiration, Patricia Altschul, the 84-year-old Charleston matriarch and high-powered art dealer better known as the “dowager countess” of Bravo’s Southern Charm.2 We really fell down on the job there. Luckily Airmail is here to set us straight, on the occasion of Altschul’s new memoir, which is of course titled, Eat, Drink, and Remarry. Our question: WWPD if her husband was indicted for financial fraud and her sons engaged in a little light incest on a tropical vacay on which she has, dear god, run out of meds!?
Read “Diary of a Southern Grande Dame” here.
“The show proved especially popular with women, many of whom reported feeling a mysterious warmth spread through their lower bodies, accompanied by an irrepressible urge to weep.”
Maybe this orgasmic quote explains everything? A few years back we wondered why, suddenly, everyone knew about Hilma af Klint (that’s af, not of, get with the program!), an artist who had been barely a footnote in our art history classes and yet was popping up in posters and Ikea collabs and Guggenheim retrospectives—starring in the kind of cultural resurrection she never came close to in life. Alice Gregory digs up a humdinger of a story of the mystic/artist, whose legacy—what it stands for, and who has the rights to it—has become “something of a national debate” in her homeland of Sweden. Required reading for all art fans, especially those who have a replica of af Klint’s beautiful, exquisitely female-feeling geometric compositions hanging in their dining room (you know who you are!).
Read “The Strange Afterlife of Hilma af Klint, Painting’s Posthumous Star” here.
When I’m not writing? “I see friends and get exercise”
No we did not shed actual tears this morning reading about novelist Maggie Shipstead’s gloriously and intentionally child-free, financially secure literary existence (hiccup) but it did remind us to share Katey Townshend’s recent MacLean’s essay about having a tubal ligation at 35 to ensure she’d never procreate. (Bad news for those barefoot-and-prego MAGA types: a 2023 survey found that a third of Canadians between 15 and 49 years old planned not to have kids.) Both Townshend and Shipstead describe something that is tough to describe: An absence of longing. And something that is easier to describe: Just not being that into kids. And something that is perhaps most enviable and elusive of all: Knowing oneself well enough to understand what you want in life, and taking steps to preserve it. We’d say more about that, but we’re running late for drop off/pickup/pediatrician/orthodontist/soccer practice/art class oh you get the drift…
Read the Culture Study interview with Shipstead here. It’s a followup to this earlier post titled “Big No-Kids Energy.”
Read “I Don’t Want to Have Kids. I Had Surgery to Make Sure I Can’t” via AppleNews here.
The Tina Diaries, Cont’d
When Tina Brown popped up in the New York Times Magazine’s Interview column-slash-podcast, we were pre-delighted and pre-relieved. The chat delivers: Brown, 71, is as funny, effervescent, competent, and wise as ever. The eternal straight shooter talks about how sad it is that young journalists have to think about the business side of the industry, weighs in on the Bari Weiss of it all, and responds to the strange, sideways comments Graydon Carter made about her in his recent memoir. (Suddenly, the great Graydon looks a little smaller.) The pleasant bonus is that interviewer Lulu Garcia-Navarro’s own delight, relief, and admiration for Brown is palpable—you can feel her buttons popping over the chance to interview an idol who lives up to the hype.
Read “Tina Brown Thinks the Uber Rich Have It Coming” here; listen here.
Look! JoCo’s being “bold” again!
A different larger-than-life, blonde Brit editor has launched a thing. Spread interviewee, lover of leopard prints, and Daily Beast “chief creative and content officer” (enough with these titles—we get it: very busy and important, all) Joanna Coles announced The Looker: a new vertical that’s “a bold new destination” for nonjudgemental stories about beauty and plastic surgery, which…fine. Upon further investigation, The Looker (which we keep calling “The Looksist” for absolutely no reason beyond it having a nice ring to it) is a digital mashup of More magazine and XOJane, which…yeah, sure, why not! Headlines in the first batch of stories include “I Got Braces at 60 and Never Looked Better” and “I Had Surgery to Remove My Man Boobs and Life Has Never Been Better.” She may not lead with it, but JoCo’s first job in lady magazines was as executive editor at More, a magazine whose absence we are really feeling as we settle into our own personal More eras. Just yesterday you could have overheard two Spreaditors musing that “we” should bring back More for the express purpose of putting Leanne Morgan on the cover. Join us in manifesting?
Read the announcement here; check out the wares here.
An A+ Story on an F of a Catastrophe
As you know, we’re “excitable” people. But it’s rare that a magazine story gets us so wound up that we’re unable to rest until we spread the word. And last night, we stayed up late, texting around Andrew Rice’s New York story on the jaw-dropping decline in learning among public school children—a phenomenon that began before Covid. Honestly, it makes Nice White Parents feel like a quaint prequel. (When we saw the new New York cover, our thought was: nothingburger. Thank goodness we pressed forward!) Rice’s reporting and number-crunching is thorough, but his writing is (as usual) so buoyant that the piece reads more like (an absolutely devastating, enormously consequential) thriller than a slog.
Read “The Big Fail” here.
Cutting Through the Tape
When we first saw that Lena Dunham had written a Vogue column about face-taping, we rolled our eyes: Why would we want to hear Dunham, post-looks queen of no-judgement that she is, go on about vanity? But turns out, that’s the point: When she cops to being recently rattled by her aging face—and by getting Kybella, mmmhmmm—it feels like a real confession. Plus: While countless beauty essays reference or attempt to channel Nora Ephron’s I Feel Bad About My Neck, in Dunham’s case, it’s earned.
Read “The Quixotic Promise of Face Tape” here.
In celebration of Alison Roman season, we will be taking off next week to give thanks and digest. See you in…wait for it…wtf…it can’t be…December!?
Seriously, get a load of the Times (left) and Vanity Fair’s matching photoshoots! Cute!?
Gen Xers: Patricia is also stepmother of MTV’s News star Serena Altschul.
I have no idea how I would live without the SPREAD. This one? Another Beaut!
And there goes another full morning here in Tokyo, consumed with stories I can't help but read. I'm starting to feel like the dinosaur who's been roaring about what our quest for youthful looks really means (fear of loss of control and of COURSE, death), especially when I read Lena Dunham on face tape—very amusing and fun but reveals Vogue eds scrounging around for ideas... Anyway, I'm not whining. Am I? Oh, and anyway, Tig has said she and the execrable Cheryl are no longer friends... just fyi. x