Recently I purchased a twelve-dollar gray wig online and had it shipped to myself at Nicole’s house, where I’ve been staying for the last three and a half weeks, because I was suddenly and inexplicably seized with the thought, “I should have a gray wig and film the ongoing adventures of best friends Joan Didion and Anna Wintour.”
I am not a regular reader of Vogue, and I think the only work of Didion’s I’ve ever read is like half of that essay about the time she bought a dress for Linda Kasabian, and “Some Dreamers of the Golden Dream” in, I want to say college but might have been high school. So most of what I know about Anna Wintour and Joan Didion is just what I’ve vaguely absorbed from watching a lot of TV and spending a lot of time on the Internet. I imagine the two of them as being very remote but supportive friends who do nothing but solemnly approve of each other’s haircuts as they glide silently past one another at Fashion Week.
I’ve also found, as the series has continued, that their respective characterizations have been marked by a significant decrease in dignity and reserve and a 400% uptick in relentless enthusiasm, because that is just the energy I cannot help but bring to the table. This is, I suppose, my pivot to video. Thank you for watching.