If you need a friend right now, let it be Somni. On “Home,” he’s alone, too, and he’s leading the charge on looking inward. Over fuzzy bass and spare percussion, a solitary voice wonders who it is without interactions: “I could go home if I want to, and then what. Living off time I borrowed, and then bought. Melodies, they won’t sing themselves to me. Everything seems to knock you off your feet.” Tension runs between the rooted and the itinerant, wondering which really builds a person. The question is of course insurmountable, so after just a few lines, the voice starts humming as if to keep itself company— and it works. More voices flower around it, building a little nest of comfort. Keep this one close.
All the talking heads are talking from home now, and most of them are talking in front of bookshelves. Naturally, Twitter, Zoom, and perhaps your living room are abuzz with people noticing particular books that the people onscreen appear to own, and frankly, making those discoveries is the thrill of a lifetime. The “Credibility Bookcase,” as Amanda Hess calls it, is now the requisite background to a video interview, painting a veneer of intellectualism onto the speaker’s screen. (Please also see the fantastic twitter account that coined the term; it’s poetically rating and cataloguing every bookshelf video appearance.) If this is the new convention, there are some things we need to know: Are people rearranging their shelves to display the most impressive titles most prominently? If you’re speaking on a topic that’s on the outskirts of your wheelhouse, do you order new books to keep up appearances? Your appearance is on behalf of your employer; can you then expense those books? One thing’s for sure: you’d better hide your Stephen King.
PS, fashion is still happening. Just last week, some fashion magazine put on what they’re calling the world’s first virtual runway show, wherein Karlie Kloss, Joan Smalls, etc. walked through their own houses wearing new designs. This might have been a nice attempt to salvage an industry tradition, but all anyone could look at was the models’ ridiculously nice homes. Obviously no one cares about what clothes are coming out in the time of Covid; we just want in on the lifestyles of fancy people. Fashion industry pls note.
Well, as long as the clothes don’t matter, let’s, uh, model appropriate isolation behavior, shall we? I recently became aware of a brand called “Swoveralls,” and while I very much dislike a cute elision, this one’s pretty good: it’s overalls made out of sweatshirt material, a full-body suit of softness. Sure, everyone on Zoom is focused on sizing up your houseplants, but you may even get a compliment or two on these babies if you hike ’em up high. Do with that information what you will.
