You have a rare talent. I am so engaged when I am reading your essays; I think because they are written with such emotional depth and honesty yet with a lightness of touch that does not judge yourself or others. It is just a mirror of a time. Your writing is beautiful and a pleasure to read. Thank you.
Whoa. Now I know why I'm drawn to you - your writing, tweets, etc. I was actually there, at Harvard, too in 1995. But I was (fortunately for me, I think) an almost 40 year old with a 17 year working class profession behind me before attending graduate school. Your story about the wealthy girl breezing into the Econ section meeting reminded me almost exactly of a similar free-spirited wealthy young woman who also captivated the room when she entered - late - a graduate course in feminist theology. She was tan, a world-traveler, with a similar, but more bohemian, entitled nonchalance. I, too, was fascinated. It was the first of several similar experiences. Although I had a lot of life experience, I had "made it" in my fly-over hometown, where my undergrad professors had warned me about how "cold" it was in Boston and at places like Harvard. I don't at all regret the choice to attend and I learned more than I bargained for. Great piece. 🙏🏼
I am 62, and for most of my childhood, I lived in a small town of 1000 people. My town was only two hours south of San Francisco, but an entire world away from big city culture, fashion, wealth, and all the life experience that goes with it. In the summer of 1981, I boarded a Greyhound bus on Main Street, and rode it to San Francisco to attend my orientation at SF State University where I would begin that Fall. Once I arrived at the SF bus station, I walked out to get a taxi cab, and just like I had watched young women do in the movies, I told the driver simply "Mary Ward Hall, please." No address. Just "Mary Ward Hall, please." I felt so elegant until the taxi drive grumbled "You got an address?" I was so deflated and fumbled around to find a street address to give him. Although I spent two years in San Francisco, and have lived for almost 40 years in Los Angeles, after transferring to UCLA (all of which I paid for myself with part-time jobs and student loans that took me years to pay off), I am still that girl on the Greyhound bus. It's always a work in progress to replace envy with gratitude for what I do have. Thank you for the reminders in this beautiful essay.
First, this essay was so so good. Second, this part “Beautiful things are alluring, and there’s nothing wrong with being drawn to them, but this attitude can also be a kind of trance in which you devalue your own life and forget your own good fortune—like being able to go to college at all. I came to realize the difference between enchantment and envy: The latter causes you to lose sight of what you have yourself” I have comentary. When souped in this environment isn’t this kind of disillusionment inevitable? Especially as young as you were. I saw this happen with my brother. Hard to hang on to “reality” when your friends have air plane hangers. Glad you made it out... Glad he did too - mostly 😮
Very well written,of course, and flows like the river of your life.
Being a small town, shy mid-western guy, without a clue about fashion or culture, this was intriguing for me. I think that you , perhaps, a more challenging trip through the college years. Seems you turned out to be just fine as you. Well done.
I enjoyed your essay, and the glimpse it gave into the Ivy League dynamics amongst young women. I've only attended a state university, and am overly dismissive of the Ivies. This helped me to register that some of the students are wearing costumes that they have a complex relationship with. I especially liked the journey of your amulet. Oh, and that line about cashmere on cashmere. I felt those visuals.
Amanda this is so good, so startling and effervescent-- and somehow darted underneath whatever I think I know about my own emotions, such that I'd like to burst into tears right now.
The early 90’s were peak logo. Amanda, you must have had plenty of ‘style’ yourself to get an invite to the Gucci gold bar loafer Hamptons. Wonderful essay.
I feel we all can relate to how you were at 19 -- it's such a vulnerable age and time of trying to sort through values while trying to fit in the world at large! Beautifully written!
This was a beautiful essay, thanks for sharing
You have a rare talent. I am so engaged when I am reading your essays; I think because they are written with such emotional depth and honesty yet with a lightness of touch that does not judge yourself or others. It is just a mirror of a time. Your writing is beautiful and a pleasure to read. Thank you.
I really enjoyed reading this. It flowed! I found the detail about how rich people refer to mom and dad particularly poignant.
I also loved that detail!
Whoa. Now I know why I'm drawn to you - your writing, tweets, etc. I was actually there, at Harvard, too in 1995. But I was (fortunately for me, I think) an almost 40 year old with a 17 year working class profession behind me before attending graduate school. Your story about the wealthy girl breezing into the Econ section meeting reminded me almost exactly of a similar free-spirited wealthy young woman who also captivated the room when she entered - late - a graduate course in feminist theology. She was tan, a world-traveler, with a similar, but more bohemian, entitled nonchalance. I, too, was fascinated. It was the first of several similar experiences. Although I had a lot of life experience, I had "made it" in my fly-over hometown, where my undergrad professors had warned me about how "cold" it was in Boston and at places like Harvard. I don't at all regret the choice to attend and I learned more than I bargained for. Great piece. 🙏🏼
I am 62, and for most of my childhood, I lived in a small town of 1000 people. My town was only two hours south of San Francisco, but an entire world away from big city culture, fashion, wealth, and all the life experience that goes with it. In the summer of 1981, I boarded a Greyhound bus on Main Street, and rode it to San Francisco to attend my orientation at SF State University where I would begin that Fall. Once I arrived at the SF bus station, I walked out to get a taxi cab, and just like I had watched young women do in the movies, I told the driver simply "Mary Ward Hall, please." No address. Just "Mary Ward Hall, please." I felt so elegant until the taxi drive grumbled "You got an address?" I was so deflated and fumbled around to find a street address to give him. Although I spent two years in San Francisco, and have lived for almost 40 years in Los Angeles, after transferring to UCLA (all of which I paid for myself with part-time jobs and student loans that took me years to pay off), I am still that girl on the Greyhound bus. It's always a work in progress to replace envy with gratitude for what I do have. Thank you for the reminders in this beautiful essay.
So powerful, tender and haunting. Thank you very much for sharing this.
You should consider this the first chapter of a book (nudge).
Thank you so much for reading, Monica, and for this kind message!
First, this essay was so so good. Second, this part “Beautiful things are alluring, and there’s nothing wrong with being drawn to them, but this attitude can also be a kind of trance in which you devalue your own life and forget your own good fortune—like being able to go to college at all. I came to realize the difference between enchantment and envy: The latter causes you to lose sight of what you have yourself” I have comentary. When souped in this environment isn’t this kind of disillusionment inevitable? Especially as young as you were. I saw this happen with my brother. Hard to hang on to “reality” when your friends have air plane hangers. Glad you made it out... Glad he did too - mostly 😮
Very well written,of course, and flows like the river of your life.
Being a small town, shy mid-western guy, without a clue about fashion or culture, this was intriguing for me. I think that you , perhaps, a more challenging trip through the college years. Seems you turned out to be just fine as you. Well done.
Beautiful written and so full of emotion and reflection. I love your heart.
Knockout good. Reading it I saw my anxious-ridden self at college fifty-five years ago.
Same!!!
I enjoyed your essay, and the glimpse it gave into the Ivy League dynamics amongst young women. I've only attended a state university, and am overly dismissive of the Ivies. This helped me to register that some of the students are wearing costumes that they have a complex relationship with. I especially liked the journey of your amulet. Oh, and that line about cashmere on cashmere. I felt those visuals.
That was a surprise ending. It caught me off guard, in a good way.
I love a sharp turn at the end of an essay! Thank you for reading.
Amanda this is so good, so startling and effervescent-- and somehow darted underneath whatever I think I know about my own emotions, such that I'd like to burst into tears right now.
Ariana, This meant so much to me. Thank you for reading, and for telling me. XO
It's great to have to look up a new word in the dictionary!
Just like reading Time magazine in the'60's
Haha what did you have to look up?
Or Wm. F. Buckley essays…
I looked up “quotidian” and “inchoate,” which I’d mistakenly thought meant “indescribable.” Thanks for setting me straight. :D
I want to buy your book immediately after its release. Hopefully, at 75, I won’t have to wait too long.
Quotidian is one of those words I think I know what it means when I read it, but now I am not so sure. Will look up both words too in solidarity!
Oh interesting, quotidian, which sounds so elegant,is a less mundane word for mundane, common, everyday things. :)
Agreed! I looked up quotidian and amulet. A really delightful read.
The early 90’s were peak logo. Amanda, you must have had plenty of ‘style’ yourself to get an invite to the Gucci gold bar loafer Hamptons. Wonderful essay.
Beauty beats style any day 😉
Style - as in character, brains and beauty.
I feel we all can relate to how you were at 19 -- it's such a vulnerable age and time of trying to sort through values while trying to fit in the world at large! Beautifully written!