A Familiar Situation

Hi friend,

No one can predict the future. That doesn’t mean we’re not interested in peoples’ attempts. (A decent amount of these have already come true, for example.) But we can learn from the past.

That’s particularly true this Pride Month. Ten years after the landmark Supreme Court decision in Obergefell v. Hodges, which legalized same-sex marriage nationwide, it feels like we’re backsliding. A new Gallup poll found that support for gay marriage among Republicans has dropped to 41 percent; the divide on the issue between political parties “is the highest recorded since Gallup began polling on the issue of marriage equality in 1996.” Corporations, ever the fair-weather friend, are edging away from related merchandise and marketing. The administration is seeing to recast June from Pride Month to Title IX Month, a pretty dramatic tone shift from just a few years ago. And anti-LGBTQ bills continue to pop up, no matter how many are defeated.

History provides an important ballast. Take these thoughts from LGBTQ elders, including an 82-year-old who participated in D.C.’s first-ever gay rights march of 1965, who said, “We couldn’t conceive of the idea back in the ’60s that there would be laws to protect us from discrimination, that there would be openly gay elected officials. … The whole idea of marriage equality was something we couldn’t conceive of.”

Or in the life of activist Marsha P. Johnson, the subject of a new biography.

Or in Hedwig and the Angry Inch writer John Cameron Mitchell’s tough “punk” love, which he’s decided to dole out to youngsters while touring around the country. “Everyone’s trapped in their identity, and they’re looking for trouble. They’re 20 years old and seeking the flaw out, almost like a cranky old granny,” he says. “They were getting old before their time. In their rush to be correct, to help to correct the world, they started to correct each other and their friends because you don’t cancel a dictator that’s in charge, you cancel who you can, and that’s usually someone who’s in the room or online with you.” 

The entire convo (you can listen to it, it’s only 17 minutes long) is great. But we’re biased, because we also grew up in the ‘90s and we love picturing him explaining that decade to college students.

Speaking of going back in time: In this week’s feature, one woman does just that after a divorce. Read on for her story, plus a few fun distractions for your weekend.

Bye,
Your friends at Gloria

Some names have been changed. 

In early 2004, when I was 24 and living with a nightmare of a roommate, I picked up a copy of Apartment Finder (the print version of what is now apartmentfinder.com) and flipped through the pages just to see what was out there. A place called Harbor Pointe Apartments caught my eye. My needs were fairly simple – something that allowed for dogs and a short commute to downtown Charleston – and Harbor Pointe seemed to fit. So I called them, booked the tour, and said I’d take a two-bedroom. 

“You’re moving during TAX season?” asked one colleague when I shared my plans. “That’s crazy!” 

Actually, more than one person said it, but I ignored them all. I had a feeling Harbor Pointe was my place. 

And it was time for me to have some better luck. Things had been a mess since graduating two years before. I’d taken a position with a big accounting firm, only to be laid off when the Enron story broke. Out of a job and with zero plans, I decided to get a master’s in accounting. Then, after living downtown in a converted old house for a year, dealing with mold and bad parking, I got saddled with the nightmare roommate. Now, at last, things were looking up. 

Two months later, I moved into Harbor Pointe along with Madison, my border collie-beagle mix. A college friend would be joining as my roommate that August. I’d lived with her before, in the dorms, so I knew we would be a good match. The place had two decent-sized bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a bonus sunroom. We’d have to share the bathroom, but so what? We did it in the dorms and could do it again. Plus, my room had a separate vanity and enough closet space for my collection of high heels. 

My friend, Dee, was happy to take the second bedroom, and I was happy to show her around. Neither of us were culinarily gifted at the time, so we’d go out to Wild Wing Café, the Kickin’ Chicken, or any number of casual restaurants and bars. We had everything we needed right at our fingertips – grocery stores within walking distance, in-house entertainment (Sex and the City DVDs and fashion magazines), a cute maintenance man (he particularly liked Dee) and, most importantly, youth on our side. 

It was all so beautiful that I should have thought harder when I decided to move in with my boyfriend rather than signing another lease. Dee and I parted ways with our beloved Harbor Pointe, and I had no idea I’d one day be back. 

In your 20s, time seems to go at a normal speed. One year contains so many opportunities, romances, and change. But as you get older, things can get humdrum, and before you know it, you’re in your 40s and married to an asshole. Such was the case when I decided Sam (yes, the same boyfriend from 20 years prior) and I should finally call it quits. We’d had two children, a handful of pets, multiple homes, and not one speck of love between us as far as I could tell, at least not real love. Sam was incredibly self-centered, which I’d ignored for as long as I could. It was time to go my own way. 

Unfortunately, going my way in Charleston – where I would need to remain for the sake of the kids – was proving quite expensive. I wanted a three-bedroom apartment so my oldest would have a place to stay between college semesters. But after examining prices, I decided a two bedroom would have to suffice.

I should note here that I’m a CPA and earn a decent income. But the prices in the Charleston metro are simply absurd. Even after dialing back to a two-bedroom apartment search, I couldn’t find anything that wasn’t cramped. Then, one day, I noticed a sign for The Cooper. 

That’s Harbor Pointe! I thought to myself. I guess they changed the name.

Well, that’s not all they changed. After booking a tour on my phone (no such thing as phone numbers listed in Apartment Finder), I found that the apartments I’d lived in so long ago had gone through a major facelift. The old brown steps between floors were replaced with gleaming new stairways; the kitchen boasted stainless steel appliances; the floors were hardwood. Even the clubhouse and the swimming pool, which Dee and I rarely used back in the day, were being updated. 

Though the price was more than double what we paid two decades ago, a cool $1,970 a month, I barely batted an eyelash. With the updates, it was up to my current, not 20-something, standards, and the closets and the big sunroom still came with the space. It was by far the best deal I discovered on my post-age-40 apartment search – and, even better, it felt familiar. It felt like coming home. 

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TO STREAM George Clooney’s play Good Night, and Good Luck – which is about McCarthyism, and for which he dyed his hair that unflattering shade of dark brown – will be airing live on CNN this Saturday at 7pm ET. Apparently, this is a first for Broadway. If plays aren’t your thing, the sexy and stylish (if vapid) Italian-French A24 movie Parthenope is now available to watch on HBO.

TO GET Ahead of summer, we’re stocking up on a few tried-and-true beauty basics from Nordstrom. That includes a restock of this incredible pot of bronzer that we use on a daily basis; this hydrating serum everyone’s been raving about for air-dry days; and a big bottle of this lightly coconutty-scented shampoo for summer escape vibes in the shower. #partner

TO LISTEN Time passes so quickly; are we already nostalgic for the golden era of…Soul Cycle? (We did run into Bradley Cooper in the lobby of the WeHo location once). A new podcast, Cult of Body & Soul, dives into the fitness chain’s heyday. Expect episodes on inter-staff drama, celebrity superfans, cutthroat bike booking systems, and much more ridiculousness. 

TO READ “The makings of history can be hard to discern in the moment, but occasionally, a scene arrives that is instantly indelible,” writes star political reporter Evan Osnos in the introduction to his new book, The Haves and the Have-Yachts: Dispatches on the Ultrarich (Bookshop, Amazon). “On January 20th, 2025, the world watched American politics embrace plutocracy without shame or pretense.” He goes on in a similar clear-eyed fashion to explore our new Gilded Age: the parties, the boats, the peccadilloes, and the political influence.

Obsessed with this advice on whether or not to have a third kid. • A proper tribute to NYC’s beautiful Green-Wood Cemetery. • Wow, this story on newborn genetic testing raises a lot of questions. • It’s divorce season. • A wild “convo” with ChatGPT.

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