Baby Foreskin Facials Are Out. Sea Hags Are In.

What's hot and what's not in 2025.

Jan 05, 2025

Why not kick off the new year with a rant, some terrible health advice, and some luminous fragments of magic? Thanks to Adeline Dimond for the inspiration.1

What’s Out Like In-Laws Who’ve Way Overstayed Their Welcome

The News

Because they’re all lying liar faces, and I’m exhausted trying to get to what’s real, so fuck it, blissful ignorance it is.

Social Media

Nothing would make me happier than a mass exodus off the platforms because social media is soul-sucking mind control that leads to a shallow existence. Ask me how I really feel.

Social media is called mental fast food for a reason, and the term applies universally. Except for Substack, which, like In-N-Out, is perfectly acceptable for regular consumption.

The Word “Actionable”

This is doublespeak at its finest and a fave of my corporate clients. Aren’t all tips “actionable?” The definition of actionable is “able to be acted on; having practical value.” If you’re giving out advice that can’t be acted on or is worthless, you need a different job.

Actionable, therefore, is not a unique selling point for something that helps people take action. That’s like saying your tips are better because they’re helpful.

Saying, “She Looks Great For Her Age”

This is a message to myself.

I’m gratuitous with compliments, but this caveat falls out of my mouth more often than I’d like. I managed to swallow it recently when talking about Sandra Bullock—she looks great PERIOD—but my brain wouldn’t let it go until I fell down a rabbit hole about baby foreskin facials, and now I can’t unlearn that.

Mid-40s wisdom has taught me that life is about being beautiful and not believing it until it becomes about wondering when everybody got so obsessed with beauty—also known as WHY CAN’T I JUST GET WRINKLY IN PEACE, PEOPLE?!!!!!

It seems the categories of aging women are as follows:

Older women who don’t look like sea hags. These women must be remarked upon because women are supposed to turn into sea hags. Rare anomalies such as these must be celebrated with a backhanded compliment. For her age.
Older women who want to avoid looking like sea hags and thus have expensive work done. These women must be called out for said work. We remember what they used to look like, so our brains see an AI version of them now, making it necessary to caveat compliments with, But she’s obviously had some work done.
Sea hags.

No matter what camp you’re in, it’s a zero-sum game. The last category comes with the power of invisibility, so it seems the most appealing.

And so long as we’re on our soapboxes saying FuCk tHe pAtriARchY, let’s stop calling people “brave” for aging naturally. How is it brave to do what nature intended? Let’s also allow “beautiful” to apply to women who glow with an aura of comfortability in their own skin, even as they rock silver hair and crow’s feet. Let’s use it to mean “proudly makes her voice heard,” “is kind of a badass,” or “exudes compassion and kindness,” even if—especially if—she is a glorious, cauldron-stirring, no fucks-giving sea hag.

Feeding the Animals

Trolls be trolling, and it’s been a humbling experience, to say the least. As Andrea Hoffman states in her mic-drop post about 💩 fairies:

“You do know there’s a human being behind that post, right?”

I’ve been advised to take the 💩 nuggets as compliments, “not let ‘em get to me,” and block perps like the wind. But the version of me who likes understanding what makes us different hasn’t been able to resist engaging with each and every one of them. It may have been a snark-flavored response, but each message I sent invited the OP to be heard.

What did that lead to? I’m proud to say I turned not one but TWO trolls into friends who now leave me sweet comments like this:

BUT.

In 2025, I’ve decided not to feed the animals. Even if two out of every 30 trolls are actually good people having a bad day, the other 28 are irredeemable. Sorry, not sorry. That’s the cost of a platform that values freedom of speech like Substack does; there will always be bad actors. My desire to be inclusive does not eclipse the need to protect my mental health.

Therefore, if someone shows up in my comments and instantly lowers my vibe, I’m blocking first and asking questions never. Life’s too short to give that experience attention for more than the time it takes me to read it. I wish I could design a bot to hide negative comments so I never have to see them, but I also know that with every tiny dagger thrown, I’m developing a thicker and thicker skin, which is undeniably useful for a sensitive, creative soul like mine.

The bottom line? If you wanna hang out, just be kind. It requires way less energy than being a giant douche, anyway.

What’s Hotter than Hot Frosty When He Was in Schitt’s Creek and Actually Hot

All the Cheese

Circumstances beyond my control stole gluten, alcohol and coffee from my life. If you want my cheese, you’re gonna have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.

Red Lips and Shoulder-Skimming Earrings

Because no one said we women of a certain age have to take this whole becoming invisible thing lying down. Thanks to Kristi Keller illuminating romantic #LifeGoals I didn’t know I had, I am now entering my Sugar Dame era. And red lips and bling will be a central component.

BYOP: Bringing Your Own Party

My last few birthdays have been depressing. My best friend is in a serious relationship and is less and less available. I never intended to live where I live long-term and have, therefore, put zero effort into making friends. And starting from scratch is hard in your 40s, especially when hanging solo at a bar is no longer your jam. As a result, I’ve spent a few major holidays snuggling with my cat, promising myself it isn’t pathetic at all.

When my 2024 NYE plans got canceled at the last minute, I decided this was the year I would bring my own party. I often say I can have fun inside a paper bag or in Bakersfield,2 so why not just plan the most fun event/night/excursion I can think of? If someone else shows up, it’s gravy.

What does this look like in practice?

On New Year’s Eve, it looked like watching Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour in my PJs, noshing on smoked salmon dip, buffalo cauliflower with homemade ranch and deviled eggs. For my birthday, it looks like renting a cabin at the lake for a week, morning paddleboarding and picking sun-warmed raspberries for breakfast.

The best part?

I won’t disappoint myself, so bad birthdays/St. Patrick’s Days/NYEs are now a thing of the past.

Conservation

What if we all chose one thing we’ve never done before and did it as a thank-you to the planet?3

Did you know that composting isn’t optional; it’s necessary to keep the planet from literally incinerating itself? I didn’t either! Consider starting a compost bin. Or subscribe to Kathryn Kellogg’s excellent newsletter about sustainable living. Or unplug your appliances when you’re not using them. Or buy (and properly dispose of) these compostable toothbrushes. It is batshit to think we wouldn’t all perform some small act to give back to the natural world that supports us.

Collecting Magic

If something feels magical to me in 2025, I will collect it. I already have a file called “Beautiful Words,” and I add things that spark joy to it, like fireflies to a jar. It’s a veritable scrapbook of creations other humans have birthed that make my soul sing.

In just a few months on Substack, I have collected these luminous fragments. Perhaps they will inspire you to go treasure hunting, too.

"we too are like the flowers, sensational and doomed”

“…Every writer will tell you this. We are a strange lot, and I love us for doing what we do. It’s hard. And most of us do it against all odds. Against the grain. Against the current which is the river that runs through all of us, dragging us away from the very thing we were born dying to do, would die without, and would rather subject ourselves to scrubbing a toilet bowl instead of surrendering to.”

“I found my two-year-old niece before the wide full-length mirror in the foyer, mouth pressed into a thin line. She tilted her head. Her glass doppelgänger followed suit. Two small hands touched high half ponytails, dropped to shoulders poking out from yellow cotton dresses. Then, like helium balloons let loose, serious expressions lifted. “I like that,” my niece said softly, the pair reaching out to touch fingertips.”

Remember, my pretties, when it comes to 2025, whoever has the most fun wins.

So, what will you be burning down this year? And what will you fight to the death for like I will fight for cheese? I’d love to know in the comments.