Birthday Blues

This week's edition is dedicated to our curious readers in America. Happy 250.

Fraunces Tavern is a whisky-soaked lesson in some of the weirdest, most wonderful moments of American history . It was the go-to spot for all Revolutionary festivities, from the farewell dinner that a certain George Washington held for his officers in 1783, to the “Evacuation Day” party thrown by the governor once the British split. Whether it was being pummeled by a cannonball, or safeguarding plans of Revolution, the most remarkable thing about the 300-year-old watering hole is the fact that it’s still standing amongst Manhattan’s skyscrapers– and still serving the thirsty.

Celeste Mogador brooch

If you’ve ever lived in Paris or had notions of living in or travelling to Paris, a twenty year-old podcast episode from This American Life is essential listening. For the program’s 25th anniversary, producers dug up the episode for rediscovery, and as the author of book called Don’t be a Tourist in Paris, the podcast strikes a particular chord, particularly the segment featuring David Sedaris and his almost-debilitating fear of looking like or being perceived as a tourist. You see, when I chose the title of my book, I wasn’t trying to be pretentious – I was for all intents and purposes, sharing my own self-help guide.

I stumbled upon this incredible archive of tinted photochromes from the dawn of the 19th century hiding away in the Beinecke rare books and manuscript library. Published by the Detroit Photographic (which no longer exists), the firm’s photographers travelled the country snapping the sights of North America to be printed on postcards and sold to the public. Hop in the MessyNessy time machine…

We do love a good plunge into worlds apart – filled with secret society conspiracies and folks living off-grid or on the fringes of society. The latest curious collective to pique my interest is perhaps the quirkiest of masonic orders, called “The Shriners”, formally known as the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine (AAONMS) – a name that sounds like it came straight out of an Indiana Jones adventure.

“Amidst crowds of anxious immigrants milling about, Hine had to locate his subject, isolate [them] from the crowd, and set the pose-almost always, because of the language barrier without words. He had to set up his simple 5 x 7 view camera on its rickety tripod, focus the camera, pull the slide, dust his flash pan with powder, and through his own look and gesture try to extract the desired pose and expression. With a roar of flame and sparks, the flash pan exploded, an exposure was made, and beneath the protective cloud of smoke which blinded everyone in the room, Hine would pack up and leave. A second exposure was out of the question; one shot was all he had.”

Before the Juke Box, there was the Juke Joint, a reverberating sanctum of the Mississippi Delta and the indefinable heartbeat of southern African American culture. The traditional Juke Joint seems to have grown out of the landscape more than it was constructed.

They crusaded with horns sprouting from their heads, and rifles slung across their backs. Legend has it they decreed the virtues of the Holy Bible in one hand, and a torch in the other. They were known as the “Bald Knobbers,” and for a period of time in the lawless Ozark Mountains of a post-Civil War midwest, their name was synonymous with ‘Sticking it to the Man’ — but who were they really? Pro-Union champions for justice, or just a violent gang? Depends who you ask.

After the Great War, a new kind of music began to waft through the winding streets of lower Montmartre. Unrestrained, audacious, with a potent syncopated rhythm unlike anything ever heard in Europe. It was the music of Black Americans who had started to move into the neighborhood. For a brief time, far away from Jim Crow in the United States, they established a cultural utopia with no color lines. And for that brief interlude known as Les Années Folles, Montmartre became known as Harlem-on-the-Seine.

Among my favourite things are mid-century kitsch and tiny houses. Put the two together and you basically send me into overload. I’m aware that the faded glamour of American motels is much more appealing to a European road-tripper like me who hasn’t stayed in enough of them yet to have encountered be

According to the National Archives, as many as 400 women secretly fought during the Civil War while attempting to conceal their gender. Stories of women in uniform being discovered by accident or through medical examination in hospital, were frequent enough that they became common gossip for the army’s trenches.

Free for a dinner date tonight? We’ll cosy up under the palm trees, beneath the eyes of Grecian statues and the bubbling of waterfalls; we’ll stroll amongst Medici-inspired gardens and socialise with 200-and-something other guests who’ve ordered a Delmonico steak, or triple-decker monte cristo sammie. Because this is the grande dame of fabulously kitsch American restaurants, and one of the top restaurants in the country, “The Kapok Tree Inn.” Circa 1970-something, of course…