Rachel Syme

Dec 22, 2024 | newyorker.com | Rachel Syme

In late 2012, Dan Erickson was a twenty-eight-year-old aspiring screenwriter in L.A., working a dull job in office management at a door-parts company. Day after day, he sat at a computer monitor cataloguing hinges and cabinet pulls. He longed to escape the drudgery, but he needed the money; he was saddled with debt, and drove a dinky scooter to save on gas.

Nov 25, 2024 | newyorker.com | Rachel Syme

On social media, rewarding oneself with “little treats” has become a de rigueur form of performative self-care. Did the laundry? You deserve a matcha latte. Filed your quarterly taxes? Time for a gel manicure.

Sep 19, 2024 | newyorker.com | Rachel Syme

In today’s newsletter, smells of the season, and then:• The end of adoptions from China• The context of Trump’s attacks on HaitiansIn reporting my piece on the French perfumer Francis Kurkdjian, whose airy, sugary, hauntingly synthetic scent Baccarat Rouge 540 became a sensation in 2021, I got to dive into the world of the “fragheads” who gather on the Internet to breathlessly discuss the ineffable qualities of smell.

Sep 15, 2024 | newyorker.com | Rachel Syme

What does conspicuous consumption smell like? On a December afternoon in 2013, the Parisian perfumer Francis Kurkdjian was scheduled to meet with the renowned French crystal manufacturer Baccarat at the company’s chandelier-crammed headquarters, near the Arc de Triomphe. The C.E.O. at the time, Daniela Riccardi, had commissioned Kurkdjian to create a limited-edition fragrance to mark the company’s two-hundred-and-fiftieth anniversary.

Jul 8, 2024 | newyorker.com | Rachel Syme

On a recent sun-dappled afternoon, I met the thirty-eight-year-old writer, director, and actress Lena Dunham at a brasserie called Soutine, in London, not far from her home in North London. “This place is like my out-of-house office,” Dunham said, as she settled into a brown leather banquette at a corner table. The restaurant was nearly empty, save for a few customers lingering over tea, but you could sense that it was the kind of place that did a bustling brunch service.