The West Village is Charleston, South Carolina.
+ a $20mm male contraception raise, a $45mm golf raise 🏌️, and Kardashian M&A news.
Good morning everyone.
I spent Saturday night with Martin Scorsese and Jay Cocks in Astoria. The Museum of the Moving Image invited me to a special screening of Gangs of New York at 4:30, and after I walked into the museum (spectacular place, you should all call in sick from work this week and go) and saw the line for the screening, I did something I’m not proud of. I turned around and started looking up trains home. As I pulled up the map on my phone, the two women from the museum who invited me tapped me on the shoulder and said they had a ticket saved for me (sorry Molly). I felt embarrassed that I considered leaving, and re-oriented myself to staying in Queens for the next four hours.
The moment the movie started, I felt a wave of gratitude. The version of the film the museum was screening was Scorsese’s personal 35mm print – little dust marks and glitches appeared on the film throughout the screening reminding us all of that fact. The grown men sitting around me cried at several points of the screening.
Scorsese spent 20 years developing Gangs of New York, until Miramax Films acquired it in 1999. I spent two years making my movie The End. When I spend more than a few days writing a newsletter, I send it incomplete or select the entire document and delete it. Can you imagine spending 20 years on a project? Or does thinking ahead 20 years only result in picturing the Eames-furnished home you hope to own one day?
According to New York magazine, Substack is a universe. According to co-founder Hamish McKenzie, it’s where the next President of the United States will be decided. My friend Arden, a senior at Yale, recently posted, “I can’t believe Substack is real I love it so much.” (McKenzie re-posted it and added, “Neither and same.”).
This is a long way of saying… spend your time reading and watching things that you’ll still be glad you read and watched a year from now.
Today’s letter includes: An early spring scene report from the West Village, Kardashian M&A news (including a 2026 fragrance launch), on-the-ground reporting from Alex Cooper’s Unwell Spring Break,
’s Hate Reads is back, Chanel is buying into a building that doesn’t exist yet, and more American women than men are smoking weed. I need to take a blunt rolling class.📱The Feed Me Tip Hotline is open for (anonymous) texts and voicemails: (646) 494-3916
I wasn’t in the West Village on Saturday, but after a rare application of sunscreen and a walk through Prospect Park that ended with a sweatshirt tied around my waist, it became clear: it was unmistakably West Village weather. When I closed my eyes, I could almost taste the citrus oils misting off freshly squeezed grapefruits destined for Bellinis, and hear the casual chorus of “hot sauce on the side.” I could picture the tiny, Chiclet-sized pouches of Zyn scattered across Christopher Street, and catch the unmistakable scent of Glossier You—layered, of course, with a whisper of Glossier Doux. It was 57 degrees and sunny, the kind of day when the impulse purchases of early March become rational.