#32. right kind of wrong
artist residence, gucci cosmos, gagosian, tehran-berlin, failling well & more
One of the recent NYTimes newsletters explored a story about Sara Blakely, founder of the shapewear brand Spanx, who said that her father would pose an unusual question to her and her brother over dinner as a child: How did they both fail this week?
He encouraged them to fail and not be afraid of it. “If we didn’t have something to tell him that week, he would be disappointed.” When she revealed that she had lost her campaign for senior class president, he told her that was amazing.
“He encouraged us to fail and not to be afraid of it,” she continued. “If we didn’t have something to tell him that week, he would be disappointed.”
“I had been trained by my dad to do it for the experience and the stories and the people you might meet by putting yourself out there”, Blakely said.
In the same direction, Amy Edmondson, a professor of leadership at Harvard Business School, in her new book “Right Kind of Wrong: Why Learning to Fail Can Teach Us to Thrive”, explores how we can build a healthy relationship with our mistakes.
I loved that, maybe because it resonated with my own experience. My dad didn’t ask precisely how I failed, but he never added any pressure of being always right, the winner, the best or whatever. He encouraged me to become what I thought was right and what I considered the best version of myself, always cheering me up when I wasn’t the winner—in simple words, looking at the cup half full.
When I decided to study Journalism at university, he never questioned it or suggested a more traditional career like Law or Medicine. The memories my childhood friends have of my dad during sports games at school are that he was the only dad supporting his daughter with so much heart. Losing or winning.
And that was meaningful for me. It might not be a coincidence that my close friends always highlight my self-confidence and healthy self-esteem. I don’t always agree with them - there is a more vulnerable self behind that mask - but I kind of get that, and looking back at those stories, I do believe my parents taught me to build a better relationship with failure during the formative years of my life. I’m grateful to them for that.
As a very goal-oriented person, I’ve recently bought the What Do I Really Want To Achieve? cards from The School of Life, a tool for helping us focus on what we need to be fulfilled so that we can direct our energies and thoughts most effectively. With so many distractions, I took it as a chance to regroup my priorities.
It contains 160 cards detailing our most common ambitions and longings, along with instructions on how to reflect on our goals, arrange them in a logical order of priorities and, where necessary, weigh up trade-offs. Using the cards helps us to reveal our true purpose and can be displayed, photographed or kept close to hand as a reminder of the path ahead.
They’re divided into categories: Mood, Leisure, Meaning, Work, Love, Self, Family, and Body, in sentences like “More adventurous weekends”, “More spirituality”, “More patience”, “Discovering my true talents”, “Accepting my flawed nature”, “Having more casual/meaningless sex”, “Saving for a house”, “Being more vulnerable with others”, etc.
It was a funny exercise, full of self-reflection and… a bit of a surprise: going through the cards, I also realised I was already part of what I wanted to achieve. Yes, I tunnel-funnel my main goals, but they are less ambitious than I thought.
Better clothes? Hum, quite happy with mine. More spirituality? I’m in a good place at the moment in this. Better than ever, actually. Being happier with what I have? I think I’m also learning this lesson well. Less drinking? Proudly, this was never a problem. Quit smoking? Never had to. More culture? Hum, living in London makes this a non-issue. New places? Ask my Sagittarius Moon how well I’m on that. Deciding whether to stay in or leave a relationship? Ticked.
You can be surprised as well at how you made some progress and never acknowledged yourself enough for that. Give yourself a clap in the back.
Going through the cards also made me realise that things I’m “ashamed” of are the vulnerability of many. After all, if they are there, it means it’s universal.
Healing a family feud
Fewer but deeper friends
More time alone
Wasting less money
Greater recognition
More fidelity
Being more assertive around colleagues
More patience
Cutting a toxic family member out of my life
Forgiving a family member
Avoiding self-sabotage
And the list goes on. So yes, going through vulnerabilities, I also found my commonplace with humankind.
Dr Edmondson, the author of the book in the first paragraphs, says that failure sharing is an essential ingredient of the “fail well” mindset, and sharing our fiascos with others minimises shame, encourages truth-telling and offers people a chance to learn from each other’s mistakes. And it was kind of what I felt during the exercise.
“It normalises the reality of failure for all of us and is deeply bonding,” she continues. “You don’t like people who are perfect. You like the people who are honest and vulnerable.”
So, dear reader, let me ask you a question: did you fail this week and were honest and vulnerable? I hope you did because this is a good thing.
I spent this previous weekend celebrating an important new eclipse season at the Artist Residence in Oxfordshire, in the Cotswolds area of Britain. The boutique hotel is listed as one of the places to be this year in the United Kingdom, and not difficult to guess why.
It is located in a farmhouse-turned-pub, with cosy interiors, Bramley toiletries, bicycle rental, wellies for long walks in the woods, open fireplaces, hot chocolates full of cream and marshmallows, and (phew!) a mushroom and chicken pie and Sunday roast to remember forever, hearty British.
In a 10-minute drive, you reach Witney, a small village with English classics, traditional tea rooms, and bookshops like Vinegar Hill, where I bought “Self-Care: How to Live Mindfully and Look After Yourself” and “The Happiness Year: How to Find Joy in Every Season”, with self-explanatory titles. We all know the transition from summer to autumn is not always the easiest.
We also visited Bibury and Burford, quintessentially British towns where the UK is not shy to reveal its beauty, with a quick pit stop at a sunny Oxford. As I recently read, “autumn is a treat”.
Lots going on in London, so pay attention to this
Gagosian exhibits some of the most influential artists of the 20th and 21st centuries in 16 gallery spaces around different corners of the globe: NYC, London, Paris, Basel, Rome, Athens, and Hong Kong, to name a few. From October 6–22, a presentation of early works by Christo at 4 Princelet Street in the Spitalfields area, curated by Elena Geuna, is open to visitors for free. The house itself, where the exhibition is hosted, is a must-visit in East London.
If that wasn’t enough, two exhibitions by Richard Prince, Early Photography, 1977–87 at the Grosvenor Hill Gallery, and The Entertainers at the Davies Street Gallery, are temporarily available for Londoners to visit this autumn.
There is a trend in London right now of modern buildings offering free tickets to see the city’s landscapes at high heights. Horizon 22 is the newest “highest free viewing platform”. Book a slot to guarantee your spot.
I’ve been strolling around Stoky again, and I was wondered by Wander, an independent restaurant with a British-inspired menu led by an Australian chef in 214 Stoke Newington High St N16 7HU. She owns the place, takes orders alone, and cooks by herself. If this wasn’t enough, her homemade gnocchi is one of the best I’ve ever tried. She also sells all her pottery served during the dining experience, and they remember the light-hearted spirit of her home country, Australia.
Nearby, you have Doña, a mezcal and a small but mighty music bar that also identifies as an art space, a haven celebrating empowered feminine energy and a champion for independent creativity. Tacos will soon be served in the upstairs area.
I’ve been exploring more North London lately, having a special connection with Tufnell Park again, an area that still hasn’t decided if it’s Islington or Camden borough. Anyway, I simply love to have coffee at Cricks Corner, those cafes with no website that you won’t find easily on Instagram either. If choosing to have your drink for takeaway, have a stroll at Dartmouth Park, with a unique skyline view and much less crowded than Primrose Hill.
Kentish Town is thriving with new eateries. Examples include Panadera, a Filipino-inspired bakery serving well-rated sandos and special drinks like lychee and ginger. Next door, have your dose of gelato at Anima e Cuore.
Gucci Cosmos is the hottest art exhibition in town, tracing one of many possible constellations connecting the ideas and inventions set in motion by the creative directors and artisans over the past 102 years.
Previous Drunken Butler has a new name: Tehran-Berlin. This living-room-kinda-restaurant in Farringdon, led by chef Yuma Hashemi, brings an Iranian-inspired menu as a love letter to his heritage. “I was born in Tehran, raised in Berlin, and now call London my home."
Linda homenagem aos nossos pais 🙏🙏❤️