Member-only story
Suicide At Home
Your friends and neighbors
Here’s the shocker, perhaps: I had no idea who Anthony Bourdain was. It was post-death that I spent hours on the internet going “goddamn it!” while I watched Youtube video after Youtube video of a guy who, as it turned out, I probably would have really loved (and you may wonder, how in the world did someone live life without knowing who Anthony Bourdain was? I can’t name a single Rihanna song, either, if that helps make any more sense out of things).
Kate Spade, sure, I knew who Kate Spade was. Although I have a distinct fondness for bags and such, I was never, ever a Kate Spade fan. She represented, to me, a bourgeois lifestyle I witnessed as a freelancer at countless magazines and such during the nineties in New York — a lifestyle I left at the door as I went home every night. I judged people who carried those handbags. I was a terrible human being, this of course I do realize, but it hit me a little less hard until I went digging, until I took the time to learn a little more about this astute businesswoman who took nine years off from astute businesswomaning to raise her daughter — a brave move for any woman, even with all her privilege, and an especially brave move for a woman with a powerful career.
There is, however, something about this time of year that seems to encourage suicide. I don’t know why — perhaps it’s…
