My So-Called Southern Life
A 90's throwback, a treasure hunt in Hilton Head, Scottish shenanigans, a new + improved Pitch Me! page, and so much more.
In today’s newsletter, a warm welcome to new subscribers, next stop— St. Augustine, the truth about headlines, and a little light housekeeping.
For a time, coming of age in the ’90s meant one thing: Angela Chase and Jordan Catalano in My-So Called Life. The show was short-lived, but it had it all: Angst. Heartbreak. Jared Leto’s saccharine smile and swoon-worthy baby blue eyes.
Equal parts moody and melodramatic, the “cool” girls loved MSCL, and in a desperate attempt to fit in by any means necessary circa 1995, I guess you could say I loved it too.
It’s funny to think about the things you do to fit in. Ultimately, the “cool” girls decided I wasn’t that cool after I dressed up (ironically) as another Claire Danes character from Baz Luhrman’s Romeo+Juliet for Halloween the following year. I still remember picking out the cream-colored satin fabric with my mom, who spent hours sewing it to absolute perfection. And I can still feel the cool of the pavement that I clutched as if I could somehow melt into it as the “cool” girls ruthlessly made fun of it.
I don’t remember if I cried in front of them. I probably did. Angela Chase would’ve had something clever to say. I think I just sat there. Internet trolls have nothing on vicious “cool” girls with an ax to grind.
Ah, the memories. Yet, here we are, 25 years later, and Jared Leto is still serving us those sweet baby blues while giving full-blown furry at the Met Gala. I like to think that things worked out between Angela and Jordan, and I don’t know what happened to the “cool” girls of my haunted Halloween night past, but things ended up working out OK for me too.
Whoa. This got off to an unintentionally emo start. May is National Mental Health Awareness Month, so here we are. Let’s try to be a bit kinder to one another—just a thought.
Truth be told, I always tend to get a bit nostalgic this time of year. It’s my birthday in a few days, and this marks the last year of my thirties, which feels wild to even admit out loud. It stings less if I type it, so bear with my process.
It’s been quite a decade.
As fate would have it, I’m celebrating the last year of my 30s in the same country I celebrated the first year of my 30s: Scotland! I wish I could say this was part of some full-circle moment, but like most things in life, it’s completely random. I happened to be traveling to Glasgow for work and figured, why not go a few days early? So that’s how it happened.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Scotland. And I’m thrilled to go back and sip Scotch and see some castles. I’m sure some Scottish shenanigans will be had. I’ll also do something I never thought I would do on my birthday, let alone my birth-cation: I’m going GOLFING.
15-year-old-me is sulking in a corner somewhere, shaking her head in disbelief.
I’m working on a feature about rise in popularity of the game in a post-pandemic world, and because I commit to the cause figured if there was ever a time to try it, this was it.
I guess this is growing up.
Allow me to reintroduce myself
Public Service Announcement
Last week, my essay “I left NYC for SC and I'll probably never go back” ran on Business Insider. If you don’t work in editorial, you might not know that writers rarely get any say when it comes to story headlines, even when it’s a story about your life and what was ultimately one of the biggest and most adult decisions you’ve ever made.
Yeah, still a hard no.
The headline Insider chose is much punchier than the one I submitted: “I left NYC and moved to a small town in the South Carolina Lowcountry.”
Nonetheless, the story ran, and much to my delight, has seemed to really resonate with readers! I’ve received so many nice emails from people making similar moves from big cities to small towns. I even heard from someone who’s building a house right here in sweet lil ol’ Beaufort, and as fate would have it, we even have a mutual friend in common. I love how the world works sometimes.
I love New York. And I miss it more than just the 700 or so words I was allotted in that story and more than just the rugelach counter at Zabars, which, oy, I do crave regularly. I miss kibitzing with friends and those glorious Spring to Summer days in the park. I’ll never be one of those people who exits New York and then complains about New York. Those people suck.
Of course, there are a lot of things I don’t miss — scummy landlords named Richard, finding quarters to use for the crappy washing machine that said scummy landlord named Richard refused to fix in our basement—the list goes on.
When I started this newsletter, I intended to share the unfiltered version of adjusting to life in the South, and it’s been good fun to realize that vision so far!
So, if you’re new to The Beau Yorker, welcome! And thank you. I’m excited to continue on this journey and share these stories with you. This newsletter is ever-evolving, and I appreciate you being here! I’d love to hear from you and connect, so please reach out!
Local Gems
Treasure Hunting In Hilton Head
I know I’ve said it before, but I love this time of year in the Lowcountry. We’ve arrived out of the doldrums of winter, through the thick of Spring pollen and seasonal allergies. Cool climates and crazy cold fronts are long gone in these parts, and we’re onto bigger and better, warmer and greener. The mornings are still brisk enough to warrant long sleeves, and the magnolia tree in my front yard is just starting to bloom.
It’s pure Southern bliss.
While it’s always thrifting season in the south, when my friend Katie texted and invited me to go “treasure hunting” on Hilton Head last weekend, I couldn’t resist.
Let me tell you, we uncovered some real gems. Treasure hunting, otherwise known as sifting through thrift stores and consignment shops, is a popular pastime in these parts, and with our route mapped out, we only managed to hit about six or seven of about a hundred or so stores that day.
Of all the wonderful treasures we unearthed, this beautiful Louis XV-inspired mahogany writing desk is my favorite. According to the store’s owner, the desk was owned by a woman who worked in publishing. I don’t know, I just love the idea of giving this gorgeous piece a new life and home.
I’ve been in the market for a writing desk, I just never imagined having one so beautiful. It’s a little extra, and I love it. The desk is coming home with me tomorrow. Happy early birthday to me :)
Action Item
Story Leads and Pitches!
If you’re a publicist or are interested in working together, as always, please feel free to email me at Michelle.Sylvia.Gross@gmail.com. Otherwise, I’ll be posting story requests on an ongoing basis at this handy new PITCH ME! tab right here on The Beau Yorker so keep an eye on that space moving forward.
Catch me if you can
Here’s where I’m Headed This Month
I was invited to check out the St. Augustine Food+Wine Festival in Florida this weekend, and I’m so excited! I’ve never been, so if you have any recommendations or can’t miss tips, please let me know! Otherwise, here’s where else I’m headed this month:
Scotland (mid May),
Possibly St. Tropez (TBD mid May?)
Charleston (late May)
Hawaii (late May)
Postscript
Today’s newsletter was a bit nostalgic (sorry, not sorry). They won’t always be this gushy, I promise. With Cinco de Mayo coming up on Friday, I’m leaving you with one of my first (and favorite) major bylines, a story I wrote for The Daily Beast in 2012 about The Best Mexico Food in NYC.
I get hit up for Charleston and Savannah recommendations all the time, so over the next couple of newsletters, I’ll be highlighting some of my favorite places to post up in Savannah and the Holy City this summer.
Until next time, happy travels, thanks for reading, and I’ll see you back here, another year older and definitely not much wiser in June!
XO — your favorite Beau Yorker.
Hi Michelle - hoping to connect.
David Slade
Senior Staff Reporter
The Post and Courier
dslade@postandcourier.com
Love the stories but anxious to hear about golf in Texas. Thank you. Les