Sloane Crosley
Sloane Crosley is an essayist and the author of The New York Times bestsellers How Did You Get This Number (2010) and I Was Told There’d Be Cake (2008). A resident of New York, until recently she was a publicist at Vintage books, but now writes full-time.
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Sloane Crosley: 'I bought my just-engaged friend maternity underwear'
Nothing says love like a pair of discount knickers. For a friend's upcoming bachelorette party, we – her friends (which, by the end of this, may or may not include me) – decided to each send the bride a pair of racy underwear. Given the price limit, I decided it would be better to procure a discounted version of something pricy, rather than a full-priced version of something paltry.
Inside Sloane Crosley
Sloane Crosley: 'We’ve come to expect so little from online privacy measures'
Saturday, 5 February 2011
The real world is in revolt. Sick of the lack of boundaries online, real-life privacy is now all the rage. When Facebook changed its privacy model last year, the world staged a minor hissy-fit for about a week before it got over it.
Sloane Crosley: 'New Jersey is not hard to navigate, especially when one lives in neighbouring New York'
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Here are the three circumstances under which elderly ladies in insane-looking pointy hats will ask you to come inside their house:
Sloane Crosley: 'I took one look at this person I hadn't spoken to in 12 years and meandered down the platform. Why?'
Saturday, 22 January 2011
I was visiting my parents' house in suburban New York, and in true parental fashion my mother dropped me off at the local train station about 15 minutes early. One would think that after performing the same drive every day for years when my father was commuting to Manhattan, they'd have a sense of timing about this trip. One would be wrong.
Sloane Crosley: 'I might say I had a girl crush on Tina Fey, but not on AS Byatt'
Saturday, 15 January 2011
Unless we're talking about old-school, witchcraft-trial violence, can we please phase out the phrase "girl crush"? While we're at it, if we can axe "like, total girl crush" unless Total Girl Crush is the name of a fizzy soft drink, in which case I'll take two, thank you. A Twitter and Facebook favourite, "girl crush" has been the primary means of lady-on-lady compliment over the past few years. Now that 2011 has begun, I say this is the year women take a non-heeled stand against this oddly undercutting and twee acclamation.
Sloane Crosley: 'We spend our childhoods trying to grow up and our adulthoods nostalgic for our youth'
Saturday, 8 January 2011
Today at breakfast I sat next to two of the most put-upon people in the world. They complained about people they knew (their friends, their family), then they moved on to people they didn't (the waitress, the hostess, the homeless in general). The proximity of our tables made it bizarrely difficult to sneak a glance at them without arousing a reaction. And judging by the casual vitriol slung at subway employees, I had a "Do you mind?" coming my way if caught.
Sloane Crosley: 'I’m afraid of speed. To see me vibrate with petrification, put me in a queue for a rollercoaster'
Saturday, 1 January 2011
When I was a teenager, I flew to London with a cold. Which was OK. Until I quickly boarded a second plane to Edinburgh and the swift changes in pressure caused my eardrums to swell to the point of deafness. Quoth the emergency room doctor hours after landing: "You'd probably be in less pain if your eardrum popped a little". Wonderful.
Sloane Crosley: 'I’ve had internet access at home for one month. No need to check your watches. This is 2010'
Saturday, 18 December 2010
Referring to myself as "a bit of a Luddite", I realise, is like calling myself a bit of a drug addict. Or a bit of a warmonger. Or a bit of a Cher fan. You're either in or you're out. But it's hard to reconcile my newfound access to the internet. No need to check your watches. This is 2010. Yet, so long as I had a day job, I had no discernible need to access the internet from my home.
Sloane Crosley: 'In Manhattan, quitting your job is just a bit of paperwork. It registers on the same scale as a flu shot'
Saturday, 11 December 2010
I quit my job last week. I apologise, but a decade at the same company leads me to begin this column with that piece of Camus-esque drama. I live and work in Manhattan, where people leave and quit everyday. This is cause for neither parade nor funeral.
Columnist Comments
• Tom Sutcliffe: Gay marriage is not undermining
Why are its opponents so obsessed by sex and so little concerned with love?
• Mary Dejevsky: We can't stop getting Russia wrong
Russians enjoy more freedom than is often condescendingly understood
• Steve Richards: No wonder Cameron loves this cause
There are parts of Government more excited about this agenda than any other
Most popular in Opinion
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1 Robert Fisk: Is the army tightening its grip on Egypt?
2 Mary Dejevsky: We can't stop getting Russia wrong
3 Steve Richards: No wonder Cameron loves this cause. It's risk-free
4 Tom Sutcliffe: What's undermining about gay marriage?
5 Jeremy Laurance: A service that can't care has sown the seeds of its own destruction
6 Robert Fisk: As Mubarak clings on... What now for Egypt?
7 Yasmin Alibhai-Brown: How we are sowing the seeds of tomorrow's sectarian hatred
9 Robert Fisk: Cairo's 50,000 street children were abused by this regime
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1 Robert Fisk: Is the army tightening its grip on Egypt?
2 Tom Sutcliffe: What's undermining about gay marriage?
3 Robert Fisk: Cairo's 50,000 street children were abused by this regime
4 Mark Steel: If anyone is fanatic it's Sarah Palin
5 Robert Fisk: Hypocrisy is exposed by the wind of change
6 Robert Fisk: Egypt: Death throes of a dictatorship
7 Johann Hari: There can be no defence for empire
8 Letters: Perspectives on bankers' bonuses
9 Jeremy Laurance: A service that can't care has sown the seeds of its own destruction
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