The Swipe Up, vol. 10
Travel, tiny wooden boxes, a horse dressed like Mister Rogers, and clotted cream...
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Greetings, internet friends. With this edition of The Swipe Up, we officially hit double digits. I know everyone who has a newsletter says this, but I do want to let you know how much I love popping up in your inbox on a monthly basis (like your cycle! But nicer! And hopefully more welcome!) and it really just sends me over the moon to think about our little community here. I've thought a lot about the nature of the internet and boundaries lately, but I can honestly say I've met some of the most delightful people here, and I love our chats.
This edition of The Swipe Up is mostly about travel, but don't think that means there's a referral code for Away luggage or anything (LOL there totally is). We're also going to talk about anti-chafing shorts (what a time to be alive!), how I want my kids to remember me when I die (hint: it's not because of what a great mom I am), and what to do when you've seen too many ancient cathedrals (hint: look at a dumpster).
Enjoy!
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Things I've Loved As I Traveled This Summer
Through a fluke of scheduling, I've travelled more this summer than I have in a long time. Scratch that, I vacationed more this summer than I ever have in my life. That feels bougie, and let me assure you, it WAS bougie and I had a great time. I had a spa treatment in Bath where Sebastiana rubbed hot oils on me and braided my hair, so yeah it was a little hard to come home where no one was eagerly braiding my hair. But now I shall return to my very regular life of waking up to Cy artfully decorating his crib with his own feces and wondering if can stay awake long enough to watch season 3 of Stranger Things (so far, no).
Anyway, I thought it might be fun to share some of the things I drew a heart around during my travels. Some of these are travel-specific and others are just, yeah, I think I like tea now?
Away Luggage
I know people talk about their stupid Away luggage all the time, but guys: it really is that amazing. I took everything I needed for an entire week in England in the Bigger Carry-on (because I now ride hard for carry-on life). I get that forking out that kind of cash for luggage seems silly, but 1) lifetime guarantee and 2) you know what else is expensive? Buying a new suitcase at TJ Maxx every year and a half because American Airlines lost your luggage or broke a wheel or the handle. If you travel by air more than three times a year, it's 4000% worth it. I even started carrying the ejectable battery around with me in London in my fanny pack (also yes to the #fannypacklyfe) to give my phone a lil battery boost after taking 196 pictures of a 12th-century cathedral window.
So I like tea now?
My friend Emma (isn't it funny how you can travel for a week with internet strangers and suddenly if you decided to have another wedding, they would totally be your bridesmaids? You don't know their middle names, but they are now named in your last will and testament?), who is from Australia (also if you live in Australia and you need business support with heart, she is the best), told me that afternoon tea is a thing in basically every part of the world except for the States. I was today years old when I learned that every country has an afternoon snack and rest time ritual and we do not. So begins my one-woman campaign to reignite the flame of afternoon snack. We're still in branding mode (I need something catchy, so HMU), but I have a feeling it's going to take flight. If not, catch me still doing it. All that to say, I found the act of making tea (or having tea made for me) and sitting down with a little spoon and some cubed sugar to be like Sebastiana braiding my brain hair. I love it fancy, I love it non-fancy, I love it with scones in London, I love it with Mango Jo-Jos in the Popcast office. I'm a tea newbie, but I'm here to learn. I'm adding cream to tea. It's magical! Why didn't anyone tell me about cream in tea?! I love saucers now! When we were London, we had high tea at The Swan and they served your tea in these vintage Bakelite kettles and mine had "Anna" engraved on the side. If I had my bigger bag, I would have popped that Anna kettle in it and left an extra 40 Liz-faces on the table; it was precious. I've been scouring Etsy for something similar because ANNA! Anyway, I went to Fortnum and Mason's and procured some of their Smoky Earl Grey, their Elderflower green tea, and their Moroccan Mint (I did discover that Fortnum and Mason has product at Williams-Sonoma [it is unFORTCH still vurry expensive, but treat yourself] therefore us sloppy Americans can still partake in this fine tradition). So yes, I'm very INTO tea now.
TSA Pre-Check
For $80 and an interview at a slightly shady location downtown, I am a Pre-Check believer. If you fly even once a year (it lasts for 5 years), I think it's worth it. PLUS if you travel with kids, guess who also gets to go through Pre-Check? All those tiny people with their jackets and their shoes and their strollers. Plus I secretly think TSA is just a touch lax with the Pre-Check folks since they have your fingerprints and everything.
Anti-chafing shorts
Well everyone, I'm at that age and weight where, if I want to look cute in a dress and walk around a big city all dang day, I need my thighs to not rub together with enough friction to start a bonfire. While I did not have these shorts in London, I wished literally every waking moment that I did. I even tried to have them Amazon Primed to our guesthouse after the first day but alas, no dice.
Speaking of cute dresses...
I bought a couple before my London trip and ended up really loving them. This dress in the red print (you'll need a tank and slip for underneath as it is very see-through), and then this plain black one. These two dresses and my Madewell shorts were the only things I packed that weren't Universal Thread.
The life-giving power of creative women
My trip to London was led by traveller-par-excellence-slash-finder-of-beautiful-hidden-things Tsh Oxenreider and queen of the soul nurturers, Emily P. Freeman. Yes, friends. I died. I'm not even going to act like it wasn't a transformative experience because you'd all know that I'm lying. Tsh guided us to a meadow in Oxford and future geniuses rowed by on gondolas and church bells rang and Emily read a blessing over us and if you go back to that spot today, you will find my body still there, because I died. The other women on the trip were absolute magic, and I want to make sure you know about them. I already mentioned Emma (she of business support fame), but Annie B. Jones of Bookshelf fame, Erienne Jones of Some Call Me Crunchy fame, and Morgan Thomason of Winsome Paper Goods fame were also in attendance and these women are a force. Women working with kindness and passion and diligence and care in their places on this Earth, and it was so inspiring to be with them. I urge you to check out the work they do (Independent books! Caring for their clients! An amazing dry shampoo! Beautiful art!) and if you like what you see, support them. Their thoughtfulness about their work and the why behind what they do will never cease to amaze.
Kindle & Libby/Overdrive
Yes yes yes, I love the smell of old books and the feel of paper in my hands and whatever, but I also love not having back problems from carrying a bunch of books around. I know it's not romantic but I have tea to make me romantic now, so it's fine. I really liked having my Kindle with me, mainly because it enabled me to download a weird PDF about Westminster Abbey (that was free!) the night after our tour AND I can download books (and audiobooks!) from my library via Libby. I know this is not new news to literally anyone else, but it felt like a difficult concept for me to understand and execute, so I never did it. But it's a new day, I have confidence like never before, so I'm downloading books and audiobooks and drinking tea and putting cream in it.
Signature Scents
I've been trying to find a signature scent for a bit now. Not necessarily because I like perfume (it honestly stresses me out because I once wore a lavender-scented Bath and Body Works spray and someone commented that it "smells like the inside of a tampon box" and I've JUST NOW RECOVERED)(also I have friends who get migraines around perfumed ladies and I want to be respectful of all olfactory-disabilities), but after I've passed, I really want my kids to get a hint of scent and be reminded of how much they love me. I read articles about how to wear perfume so one is not the odor-equivalent of a nuclear bomb (although for the record, I will NEVER spray perfume on my belly. I am not ever in a situation where my belly needs to be bescented). I took many quizzes to figure out what scents I prefer to smell like - answer: fresh and citrus (as a side note, I'm having a very citrus moment in my life as a whole: I have oranges everywhere in my house, I bought a lime tree, and I smell like a lemon). I bought two trial-sized fragrances: Replica's Under the Lemon Trees (which I loved but a tiny person who is no respecter of property broke it after about a month), and Atelier Cologne's Clementine California (which I also loved). When I was in London, Jamie had the brilliant idea that I should go by Jo Malone and find something I liked there, to commemorate the experience. I thought this was a great idea and really liked the Orange Blossom scent. They even engraved my initials on the bottle cap, which made me feel super fancy and not at all like the inside of a tampon box.
Fanny Pack/Belt Bag
As you know, I am very into that fanny pack life. I had this one, but it was too minimal for my needs (read: it didn't hold my phone, but I liked it AND it's on sale right now) and so I got this one, which I love. Anything to add more girth to my waist: that's what I always say.
Jane Austen
Yes, I like Jane Austen now, I have fully repented to those who desperately tried me to see the light forever ago, and the internet at large, so we can move on with our lives. I mentioned in my Stories that I have an immersion plan to fully embrace life as an Austen-ite, and it is as follows:
1. Finish Jane's Letters (I have the paperback but this illustrated one is so pretty!)
2. Finish Jane Austen: At Home
3. Read Jane Austen: A Life
4. Read Persuasion
5. Re-read Pride & Prejudice
I have a phase II list and don't worry, I'm sure it has your fave on it.
This Picture as My Phone Background & Travel iPhone Photography
We passed this building on the train our first day in London and I didn't get my dumb phone out fast enough to take a pic. Then the day I wandered into Evensong, I looked up and saw I was right in front of it. Obvs, I had to know what the heck it meant, and it turns out to be a beer advertisement, but alas! I also discovered a good cardinal rule of taking pictures of buildings: point up. When you point up, you don't get things like tourists taking their own terrible pictures or selfie sticks or cars in the shot. Even if the place is crawling with people, it's empty space right above their heads. I really like this building pic, and a couple of you said you might like it as well, so you can download it here and slap it on your phone or do whatever you want with it. Enjoy and take courage!
The Comfortable Words,
or Tiny Wooden Boxes
Directions are not my strong suit, and I got on the right bus going the wrong way. I was supposed to meet my fellow travellers at Covent Garden, but now my blue dot moved away from their location. We had plans to see a show at the Globe Theater in just a few hours, and the bus took me that general direction. I thought I would wander around, maybe grab a bite to eat (because I had not eaten in like...an hour and half), and take my time.
Somehow I found myself staring at yet another beautiful, old church. England is filled to the brim with these and they are all appropriately majestic and ancient. They spill over with thousands of dead people from hundreds of years ago, unbelievable architecture, and reverent tones. The air is old and smells of wet earth, and even this seems sacred. There is always a plaque on the wall, listing every abbot or rector or dean in charge since the 1300s. Since the 600s. The churches from the 1300s are the new ones. You almost experience awe-inspiring cathedral fatigue. Where's a dumpster or an abandoned warehouse (honestly even the abandoned warehouses are cute)? I need to look at some trash to recalibrate my brain.
I look at my app to figure out where I am: Southwark Cathedral. Because something amazing and historic happened on literally every inch of London, I check Wikipedia to see which famous person is buried here or which fire it almost burned down in. He's not buried here, but Southwark Cathedral, back when it was known as St. Saviours, happened to be Shakespeare's parish during his time in London.
Every dumdum theatre major worth anything loves Shakespeare. We all had that moment in high school where we knew Shakespeare was important, but we didn't really get it until we watched Heath Ledger serenade Julia Stiles at her soccer practice (you may also substitute the Amanda Bynes classic She's the Man to this scenario). It's not revelatory or interesting that I love Shakespeare in any way, but 15-year-old Erin played a small role in her high school's One Act of The Taming of the Shrew and that little taste of joy was what scooted her into making the dubious decision to study theatre as if it were a real money-making job prospect, so Will has always been a friend to me. This is what scuttled me into the church that afternoon instead of getting a baguette and walking around looking at other old things.
Every church in England seems to be unlocked. You can walk in, any time of day and someone is either there to greet you, or there is a little sign that welcomes you and tells you the history and asks for maybe a couple of Liz-faces for looking around. There is no high-tech security (that I saw) and I never encountered a locked door. The person in charge at Southwark was speaking to a couple about something old (as you do), so I dropped a couple of coins (no clue how much it was) into the box and began meandering. There was a small crowd gathering for Evensong, so I took a couple of pictures, wandered over to Shakespeare's reclining memorial (he's not buried there, but I can only hope my church will one day memorialize me with a fabulous lounging statue), and just kind of looked around, enjoying the fact that my eyes weren't in Alabama, looking at yet another Guthrie's. Another gentleman passed out programs for Evensong, and gently handed me a copy of the BCP as well. He didn't smile, and it was clear that he took his job very seriously and he was making sure to memorize your face in case you decided to go rogue and try to escape with the program as a memento.
Under icons and images within the sanctuary were votive candles and little coin boxes. I think the Reformation made it fairly clear that we don't do the whole money for prayers thing, so I had never done anything like that: dropped a coin in a box and lit a candle and said a prayer. My prayer felt weighty. It wasn't exceptionally profound or serious, but slipping a coin in the box gave me pause and sobered me. Later, I would leave a folded up piece of paper with a written prayer in a wooden box. I tried to do this at every church we entered; they all had them. Hear the gentle clink of a coin in the box, think about the people who have served there for hundreds of years, some of their bones crowding around you that very moment, ponder the unchanging God who has had eyes on this tiny wooden box, this votive stand, this altar since before it was in existence, say a prayer.
Later, as the choristers and priests entered with their chanting and singing and recitations, something inside me connected to the old earth smell, to the lessons, the same verses spoken over ancient believers in this very room. It felt like if you cut open the stones that held that building up, the same timeworn hymns would come seeping out. During a service like Evensong, the congregation hardly does anything: there's some sitting, some standing, maybe a short call and response. But for the most part, you are just there, just being. I cannot tell you how antithetical this is to my American (former Baptist? Enneagram 3?) brain. Yes, I've been a part of a liturgical tradition for ten years now, but I'm still looking to do: can I take notes? What's the application? I should flip to this part in the Bible so I know the context. None of those things are bad, but that kind of busywork is just not what you do. Evensong is to remove you from distraction and to place you inside time immemorial, with ruffled collars and Latin words and rascally boys wearing robes and singing sweetly.
I thought about all the people who walked over this patch of floor: writing prayers, grieving, experiencing God, the clink of a coin in the box, lighting candles. I thought about William Shakespeare paying a few shillings to have his brother buried in the churchyard, and requesting that the bell be rung for him.
I thought about our verger tour guide from Westminster Abbey, Brett, who gave a small speech at the beginning of our tour like his heart would break if you took pictures. During the Abbey's moment of silence, he firmly directed tourists to observe a reverent pause. He knew every inch of that massive structure like it was his very soul. He looked you in the eye and reminded you to be careful going down the stairs because there was an awkward height to one of them and he didn't want you to fall. If you were only going to walk into one church your entire life, he wanted to make sure you felt care for here.
I thought of All Saint's in Brenchley, where our guesthouse was located, its bells (not-so-gently) waking us up every morning, bells that have been ringing for 800ish years. I thought about the small plaque commemorating Kingfisher the donkey, "who served the church for many years". Of the thousands of stories contained in that small plot of land, in the poppies growing wild in the churchyard.
Looking back on the experience, I think now of Jane Austen's church, with its little wooden prayer box with a painted red flower, containing the prayers of parishioners from before Jane, Jane herself, and beyond. I think about the medieval hex dials our guide Phil pointed out, graffiti from the Dark Ages, where one would trap a curse in the doorway before they entered a house of worship. I think now about the memorials in Bath Abbey: ancestors laying down marble and stone to mark that they were once here, they were loved by their family, and they loved God. Thousands of tourists wear down their records, these are the lives of saints as well.
I thought of my great-grandfather's Bible, sitting on a bookshelf in my living room. My grandmother's hand-written recipes.
In that moment, I realized that one day, in the not so distant future, we will be as these are to a new generation. They will pause for a moment over a photo or a letter (a text? Yikes.) of mine, it will be mildly interesting to them as an artifact. They might drive past Birmingham and wonder where we lived, maybe even slowly cruise by this house that holds my treasures. It occurred to me that we are connected to those earthy churches and slabs of marble and lounging statues, those ancient prayers and long-lost stories because they belong to a greater narrative. Someone began building a church in 1246 and someone else fed that person and a mother loved her children and every action created a chain of stories that smells like a basement with a dirt floor and opens up to tiny wooden prayer boxes here in the year of our Lord 2019.
There are broken links in this chain. I know it's not perfect. But standing in Southwark Cathedral, with a priest reading Mary's Magnificat over a raggedy group of tourists, I saw the arc of the greater narrative, bending towards grace, desiring peace, inching towards justice, and I saw that my small story was a part of the chain.
There's a portion of the Anglican liturgy called the comfortable words, various passages of scripture that are read over the congregation and the only purpose of them is to provide relief, to console, to hearten the hearer. That evening, the words of Matthew 11:28 were spoken over me: "Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." Come to Him. Light your candles. A clink of the coin. A wooden prayer box. Lay down these burdens in ancient halls and high school cafeterias and parking lots and under bridges and on back porches, and He will take them from you. He has been doing it for many, many years.
I loved this photo essay about the people who work behind the scenes at Westminster Abbey, and the short quotes that accompany their image. It totally captures the spirit of Brett.
Kind of kicking myself that I didn't see the Queen's Diamond Jubilee Gallery while at Westminster.
I saw this tree commemorating the victims of the London Bridge terror attack while at Evensong at Southwark Cathedral, but I don't think I fully grasped what it was.
I found the order of service for Winchester Cathedral's Evensong, commemorating the death of Jane Austen and it's incredible.
Southwark Cathedral's Evensong is posted on BBC3 for the next 30 days.
Things I Love This Month
Favorite Piece of Mr. Rogers Media: Horse media has betrayed us as of late, but here's a horse dressed like Mr. Rogers to redeem it all.
Podcast: I loved this episode of Criminal about a woman who was a stowaway on a cruise ship in the 60s.
Favorite Article: I love Jill Lepore and loved this essay about diving into her best friend's laptop after she passed away.
Favorite Newsletter: I adore The Cut's advice column Ask Polly by Heather Havrilesky, but I just discovered her Substack newsletter Ask Molly, which is written from the perspective of her Ask Polly's evil twin sister, Molly. Now, there's a big old language warning for this, kids, so please do not respond to me that it's not uplifting or whatever. It's not a Bible Study, Karen. But it is very funny.
Non-Amazon Buy: I bought bao pork buns from Trader Joe's and they set me free in a way I wasn't fully prepared for.
Delightful Video: My friend Morgan sent me this video of Eugene Peterson and it completely undid me to the point that I had to lay down in the floor.
Essay That Most Accurately Describes My Feelings Re: USWNT: I love R. Eric Thomas.
This Month’s Links
Article: Dick Van Dyke Vows to 'Defend' Angela Lansbury After Another Actor Challenges Her to a Fight
Article: The Best Classic All That Sketches, Ranked
Modern Blessing: Shipt
Article:World War II Veteran Reunites With French Woman He Loved 75 Years Ago
Bookseller: Hatchard's
Shop: Fortnum and Mason
Place: The British Library
Bookseller: Word on the Water
Eat: Dishoom
Eat: Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese
Eat: The Swan
Wikipedia Entry: Scones
Stay: The Hotel Gainsborough
Eat: Vaults and Garden
Visit: The Kilns (where CS Lewis lived)
Eat: The Eagle and Child
Visit: Jane Austen's House Museum
Eat: English Double Cream (ALSO ALERT I DISCOVERED YOU CAN BUY CLOTTED CREAM ON THE INTERNET)
Instagram Post: @maggierogers
Eat: Little London Kitchen Food Truck
Buy: Breathe-Right Strips
Instagram Post: @pantsuitpolitics
Instagram Post: @blackcoffeewithwhitefriends
Buy: Winsome Paper's painting of the field where Jane Austen was born
Essay: Serena Williams Poses Unretouched for Harper's BAZAAR
This Month’s Book
Lots of you recommended Bill Bryson's book Notes from a Small Island for my British reading, but I didn't get that one. I'm sure it's great, and I'm sure I'll read it someday, but Libby said I could check out A Short History of Nearly Everything, so I did and I loved it. I don't fully understand it all (most...98%?), but it's so well-written and incredibly summarized that I feel as though I understand chemistry and geology.