Where's The Time To Just Be?
A few thoughts on just being, ditching productivity for presence, reflections on Nike's uncoolness inspired by Bloomberg's piece on John Donahoe, and more articles...
‘How we spend our days is how we spend our lives,’" is a quote from Annie Dillard’s book The Writing Life. This past week, I spent my days easing back into my walking routine, seeing Laila! and Dom Kennedy in concert, trying Salsa & Beer in North Hollywood—an excellent replacement for my favorite local D.C. Mexican chain, Guapos—lying in bed recovering from multiple bouts of anxiety, and debating which YouTube DJ series is the best. I think it’s Black House Radio. James Earl Jones died, and I spent time thinking about speaking ill, better yet truthfully, of the dead — he had many hostile words for Black women. Frankie Beverly passed away, and I listened to “We Are One” on repeat.
I often wake up and start my morning pages by writing about the habits I’ve lost in the week's shuffle and my desire to show up more consistently— in my asana practice, writing, and running journey. I aim to be more loyal to the articles in my bookmarks and my daily meditation goal than to my For You pages. I take Saturdays to plan my week, and while I take my vitamins and sip on a cocktail of water, apple cider vinegar, and oil of oregano—affectionately dubbed "poop water" by my 2-year-old cousin—I write out my tasks for the day. But outside of that intentionality, I find myself paralyzed into inaction by the self-auditing of my routines, habits, and how I spend my days.
It’s not just a personal chase for the better. With my professional and passion projects, this newsletter included—I’m frequently auditing, adjusting, and using mental space to think about improving or what I could be doing differently instead of just doing the thing. I can’t blame myself; although I haven’t fallen completely victim, my feeds across platforms are saturated with content preying on women’s insecurities. They communicate that tip or that procedure, something other than the self will turn you and me into “it girls,” or that buying their ebook or subscribing to their YouTube channel is the best first step on a glow-up journey. Here’s a TikTok on the oversaturation of self-help content that explains my frustrations.
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The same cycle of thinking and living permeates my beauty routines. I’ll be pretty when my eyebrows are plucked, when my hair is laid, or feel sexy after a wax. The better me is always somewhere in the future, separated from the self. And it’s touched our wardrobes, too. We’re all trying to be Tracee Ellis Ross and have a perfectly curated closet without living a little to get there.
This desire to be the most productive, beautiful, and fully realized version of myself, coupled with the incessant rumination on how I want to spend my life, has deprived me of the presence needed to savor each day and the time and experiences required even to develop habits worth changing.
Where’s the time for stillness? Where’s the time for living? I’m still present and, most importantly, happy while writing this newsletter, reading the writing that pulls at my chest and draws me closer, with the articles I immediately want to share or the podcasts I get lost in. I enjoy my morning pages the most when writing, not strategizing.
If I’m thinking about the process so much, where’s the time to fall in love with it? For it to shapeshift from my dream life to a confirmed operating system, a state of being?
Over the next few weeks, I’ve challenged myself to stop thinking about my rebrand, how to change myself, and just live. Now, I’m not against planning, scheduling, and creating the self. Annie later writes, “A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.”
I have the routines; I know them intimately. I’ve communicated to myself several times through journal entries, notes app musings, and calendar invites to wake up at 5:45 a.m. and do all the other higher self things. And I bet you do, too; you know yourself, your higher self, and how to get there. We’re smarter than we give ourselves credit for. The challenge is to quiet the noise, the ebooks, and the influencers and stick with and see where life takes us.
Below is Annie’s full quote. I plan on reading her book over the next few weeks and affirming to myself that through each moment, each small action, and intentional decision, I am building the life I deserve.
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living. Each day is the same, so you remember the series afterward as a blurred and powerful pattern. - Annie Dillard
A Few Articles (Links In Header)
This Digital Archivist Believes Hollywood’s ‘Competition Era’ Is Over
Jason Parham interviewed Maya Cade, founder of the Black Film Archive, for WIRED. It's a great conversation about the reality and possibilities of black film, the attack on democratized knowledge, and how everyone in the industry is chasing Netflix.
I love how Parham addresses Tubi’s "ghetto" reputation while Cade pushes back, highlighting it as a platform for Black creators to produce the media they truly want to make.
Here’s a quote:
So what does Hollywood mean when the only people who are given freedom are people who have already done the taxing work—if they have at all—to become stars? Hollywood is not in the business of guarantee. Everything must be proven before it's even created.
The Man Who Made Nike Uncool
Nobody cares about Nike anymore, and John Donahoe, the company’s CEO, is probably the reason why. A cocktail of decisions contributed to the legacy shoe brand sinking its importance in our hearts and minds.
The brand focused too much on direct-to-consumer (DTC) sales, overproduced rare sneakers, which diluted the exclusivity of the Jordan brand, and neglected product development by not reacting quickly enough to aesthetic trends like gorpcore or the rising cultural interest in running. When Margiela Tabis became a topic of increased conversation after the "Tabi thief" story, I was surprised Nike didn’t respond with more marketing around the Air Rift or a high-end designer collaboration for the shoe.
In Conversation with Industry's Konrad Kay & Mickey Down
From @directorfits, an Instagram account dedicated to cataloging filmmaker fashion throughout the decades, is an interview with Industry’s (HBO) Konrad Kay and Mickey Down about big suits, corporate fetish, and the fashion choices on the cultures show about banking, power, and horny people.
The Desperation of the Instagram Photo Dump
I’ve written about Kyle Chayka and his column Infinite Scroll before. He balances a personal disdain for changing platforms and an analysis of how algorithms shape our lives exceptionally well. I can’t wait until he writes about LinkedIn influencer culture.
In this column, he writes about Instagram photo dump culture, the increase in the number of photos we can post in a carousel, and how he’s breaking through the algorithm with single photo posts. Here’s a quote:
Like trends in fashion, the dominant style of social media oscillates between aestheticized perfection and aestheticized mess, between minimalism and maximalism
Some thoughts from me: Instagram is a platform centered on self-creation, visually communicating, post by post, who we are or want to be, and how we want others to perceive us. I’m not mad at photo dumps; it is frivolous even to talk about their authenticity when everything we post on the platform is a choice; nothing is by accident. The shopping bags are wealth signaling, the farmer’s market photos show that we’re not party girls but wellness girls, and the screenshots of texts from our friends affirm that someone else thinks we’re pretty, funny, or cool. Photo dump discourse is less about authenticity but investigates how social media platforms aid in creating self and our reputations in a world where many of us are more connected online than IRL. Who cares if you have a taste if you can posture it on Instagram? It’s the negotiation between how we want to be remembered and who we are. The photo dump is supposed to be revelationary, to appear carefree, offering a glimpse into our true selves—despite often being some of the most carefully curated posts. Trust me, my second job should be as a dump consultant.
Here’s some additional reading on Instagram embracing dump culture.
The Business of Being Beyoncé Knowles-Carter
Beyoncé graced the cover of GQ, accompanied by a Sir Davis press release written by Fraizer Thorpe. This is not a knock on GQ or Thorpe—the questions are as thoughtful as can be, especially considering the entire interview was conducted via email. At a time when Black beauty brands are shuttering or transferring ownership, and Beyoncé herself has spotlighted a budding class of Black female country stars on Cowboy Carter, the piece lacked the texture and nuance of this cultural moment for Black women in business and how she is redefining cultural staples of American life and the blue-collar aesthetic, such as whiskey and country music. Beyoncé has been avoiding writers for too long, and I think the narrative that "the press didn’t treat Beyoncé fairly" undervalues the (Black) writers who approach her and her work with care. Our obsession with controlling the narrative is flattening our creative endeavors.

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We are all constantly creating ourselves, curating our Instagram stories, LinkedIn profiles, or whichever ways we show up online and in real life. It’s no different when Beyonce does it, but I don’t understand the faux vulnerability that Beyonce has convinced us to play along with over the past few years. The whole thing reads like a pitch deck trying to convince us why we should trust Beyoncé as a business owner. The PR strategy breakdowns on TikTok don’t help.
Some More Articles
Jack Harlow made Complex’s list of the 20 Best Rappers In Their 20s, which is interesting.
Marc Jacobs has a new office that feels tame but nevertheless beautiful.
Read about the woman who the internet is calling uppity African, Tyla, for Elle.
The article from Vox questions whether cycling is effective.
A Few Things to Listen To
This episode of The Psychology of Your 20s podcast is about flirting. There’s very little psychology, but it reframes flirting outside of a solely romantic context and conceptualizes it as a vehicle for connection and understanding how you want to be perceived in social settings. My takeaway? Flirt without expectations.
A NYFW recap, LFW preview, and conversation with British Vogue’s former EIC, Edward Enninful, on Vouge’s 90’s docuseries on Hulu.
Babygirl music, think PinkPanthress or Laila! is the soundtrack to my GRWM sessions. This is the new addition to my playlist.
I’ve been trying to challenge my own cynicism and negativity bias, so I listened to and loved this episode, The Gray Area.
Janet Jackson breaks down her life in Looks for Vogue, but the video skips 18 years; I think there was a more thorough way to avoid discussing the 2004 Super Bowl.
A Few Things On Social
TikToker @Thanksrahel has all the right words to talk about our favorite characters in Industry.
@thanksrahelShe hasnt gotten enough screentime yet. Lmk your thoughts on her character so far! #greenscreen #industryhbo #industryshow #industry #booktok #tvtok #harperstern #harper #sweetpea #sweetpeagolightly #rishi #robertsterling #erictao #genz #bossbabe #bosslady #fyp #foryou #foryoupage #financetok #finance #trading #tradingdeskTiktok failed to load.
Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browserI didn’t know the Nickelodeon show Henry Danger existed until this week, when screengrabs from the show were meme-ified to explain the most relatable and obscene relationship woes, set to R&B classics like Blackstreet’s “Don’t Leave Me” and Ashanti’s “Rain on Me.
The Cut has the best social media manager, who also runs the account @starterpacksofnyc. I want to see more brand and editorial social accounts lean into meme and shitpost culture. In a digital culture where we’re consistently demanding authority from brands, overproduced UGC and influencers are on their way out; what’s junky, messy, and can poke fun at anything is in. See SSENSE’s Instagram.
A great TikTok on the erasure of monoracial Black women in Hollywood.
@lifeofshanersuper curious to hear everyone’s thoughts on the increased representation of mixed race black women in media and the implications for black femininity onscreen. Again, the purpose of this video is NOT to throw shade but ignite a conversation on a pervasive trend within Hollywood #zendaya #biracial #mixed #lightskin #representationmattersTiktok failed to load.
Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browserGiven the political moment we are in, I’ve been thinking about symbolic representation, the White House's Black Excellence Brunch during Congressional Black Caucus weekend, and what it means to be someone who would attend the event. This is the quote that sums up that feeling.
That’s all for today!
I'm still working on a new interview series for Q4. Please share this newsletter with friends, haters, colleagues, and important people who could potentially pay me to write more. Most importantly, download the Substack app!
Is there anything specific you’d like me to write about? Article recs? Please email me: ellisellice@gmail.com.
you did your absolute biggest one with this. resonated deeply, working on the being present piece - harder than i thought it would be.
jia tolentino's Always Be Optimizing essay has never left my head since 2019, and neither will this
the GQ mention 😭