MARCH26 OBSESSIONS

With the transition from winter to spring comes severe highs and lows. One moment, you can be sailing the high of a sunny day. Next, you can be on the phone with a friend begging him to come to your front door and demand that you come outside for a walk. I am living a life with the full realization that no matter what emotion you are feeling, you cannot do it alone. Alone, nothing gets done. Leaning on a friendly face, anything is possible. New York sheds you to your core at a fast pace. I am reaching a raw center, and what this center holds for me is unclear, but I am getting closer to an ever-shifting definition.

Anyway, here are the Obsessions of March 2026.

1. Cathy Nesbitt-Stein

I never watched Dance Moms. I know, it’s a crime against humanity. I should be imprisoned. Executed. Firing Squad. Mata Hari Me. Luckily for social media reels, I can grasp the plot of an entire series without ever having to press play for myself.

I have found myself completely and utterly besotted by clips of Abby Lee Miller’s arch nemesis, Cathy - the owner of Candy Apple’s Dancer Center in Canton, Ohio. This woman has the best reads ever. She seems to fearlessly grab Miller by the jugular, unlike anyone else - and she does it without effort. She knows what will make the vicious dance instructor choke.

Nesbitt-Stein shamelessly squashed her competition with verbal jabs that seemed to decimate the playing field. Once Abby held her large handbag over her face and Cathy instinctively leaned into fat-shaming her with: “Oh honey, it’s hard to hide that.” Once Abby heard that, she yelled “Get out!” In a reunion episode, Cathy said that she thought Abby was a loudmouth, with Abby shouting, “A LOUDMOUTH?” unintentionally proving Cathy right.

Cathy is the ultimate Queen of Petty, and for that, I am grateful. Her videos helped me crawl out of bed when I was in a depressive episode.

2. Sashikoans

I don’t know where to begin this story - because it technically starts all the way in 2021 or 2022. I was dating a guy who was not good for me. He was an Ivy League graduate student from New York whom I would later break up with in Paris. He was a terrible partner who left me waiting on end and didn’t really convey a sense of authentic care. I wasn’t a walk in the park either: I was needy and incomprehensibly combative. When one lover is negligent, the other tends to choke with attention as an overcompensation tactic. This never works; the bridge collapses.

In between fighting for a relationship unworthy of me while he tried to find ways to avoid me, I found him picking up the hobby of Sashiko. Sashiko, a Japanese embroidery style, often using an indigo fabric and simple patterns. The grad student would frequently sit in front of the television with a textbook open, both forms of media ignored. His sole focus? The sashiko knitting pattern. It was one of the last items I found charming within him.

I created scenarios while using the term Sashiko. I created a fake band involving the word Sashiko. I created a small song with the word. I used the word as a stim to dissociate. It’s a great stim. When we broke up, it was one of the few things I held on to. I would whisper it to myself in the shower to self-soothe.

Fast-forward to now. This ex has become one of my best friends. Envision Jerry and Elaine. This guy and I were terrible boyfriends, and I realized that maybe we were always meant for something greater: friendship.

One evening, we started discussing Sashiko, and over time, he and I have created a whole universe that only continues to grow. This world is called “Sashiko Nation.”

Sashiko Nation is a society consisting of millions of tiny indigo people. Think of the Smurfs, but more violent. They carry needles and stab anyone and anything in their way while shouting “Sashiko” repeatedly. This all reads as mentally ill and it is hard to explain. Just understand that this is a creation that has brought my spirit joy.

The Instagram account is @sashikonation. We need more followers. Please consider.

3. Clavicular

LOL! You guys … I love him. This twenty-year-old microdosing meth and practicing bone smashing for a sharper jawline is low-key my idol. A man is breaking into a woman’s field. He is seeking to destroy himself in the name of masculine beauty. All the while trying to convince us that this is solely an act of masculinity. Pure alphadom. Using terminology like “Mogging” and “Looksmaxxing.” This terminology is still a bit lost on me, but I am completely besotted by the insanity.

This obsession only lasted for a week, to be completely frank. The actual content is toxic to consume. It triggered areas of my brain that ask me to starve myself and seek uppers. I had to put down the phone and grab my Big Book in order to find balance on the sobriety high beam.

However, something blossomed. What I am talking about is Clavicky. Clav and WoahVicky started hanging out and streaming together. WoahVicky came to prominence during COVID, I believe? She was just a wild teenage girl from the South with a major TikTok presence. She had a bold, whimsical style that captured a demographic’s attention. Demographic, meaning me and other divas like me. At a certain point, she discovered Jesus Christ and was saved. I low-key love when people find God, no matter how it comes about. What I love most about her is that she uses the word of the Lord only for good, as far as my minimal research can tell.

Clavicular, who is an undeniable misogynist, will say horrible things in front of Vicky and she has no problem correcting him. “You should never call a woman a ho,” she says, “we are all children of God.” Yes, the messaging is polarizing, but is the message not correct? We don’t deserve to be judged; we all deserve to be loved.

“I wish I had met you five years ago, Vicky.” Clav says to the camera with a far-off look in his eye. Whether he is being authentic or performing for the camera, he has me believing that he loves my diva. I continue to look for new streaming posts of the two of them together. They are my Carolyn and JFK Jr. Also, thank God Love Story is over.

4. Bogdanoff Twins

They claimed they never had plastic surgery. I’m sorry, but I will always love a lie.

5. “Mommy the House”

I was texting a friend I am somewhat estranged from. It’s difficult, it’s my fault. Sometimes you change and become something different; not everything comes with you. That is what this relationship feels like to me.

This guy exudes tremendous dry wit. He says something that always makes me laugh. We get our morning coffee to catch up. It feels like a dry pill for me. I can’t decide if this will come with me or not. Regardless, I take something from it. A dry turn of phrase: “Mommy the House.”

A shortening of “Mommy the House Down!” - “Mommy the House” is just so funny. It instantly became my new stim. I brought it to work, and now half the staff can’t stop saying it.

Make Mommy the House Great Now!

6. Shen Yun

I have a strange relationship with Shen Yun. Yes, it’s communist China propaganda on tour with a cast that is not handsomely paid. Jia Tolentino wrote a sharp expose on the dance troupe, sharper than anything I can write. Mostly because she is severely talented, but also because I have never seen anything beyond the ad campaign. The tickets are too expensive, and I only want to go if someone gives me a free ride.

Before you say “Don’t Go!” I already know that it is not a good show to support. However, I feel like someday it won’t exist, and Shen Yun ads will be a sign of the past that we talk about in passing. The ads will appear in a period-piece film set in the 2010s and 2020s. I want to be able to say I went before it’s completely gone. I have this sense that it will be gone before the time I am forty, but what do I know?

Needless to say, Spring is here and my first sign of its rain and flowers is always the Shen Yun ads everywhere. I got on a subway car on the L train and the entire train was covered in Shen Yun ads. I stood against the doors and started silently crying from laughter. The absurdity of the Shen Yun ads all over the train. They must have an insane advertisement budget. It almost seems impossible.

I call everyone in my contact list and ask them about Shen Yun. We have a good laugh, a shot of dopamine rushes through our shared veins. We feel safe in the warm shades of Shen Yun green. We have hopes that we will stumble upon tickets one season, just to say we went.

7. Fiona Apple’s Tidal

This hits me once a year, but this year it hit me hard. This album makes me feel like a kid again. I remember sitting on the countertop of my first childhood home while Criminal by Fiona Apple blasted from the small kitchen television. My mother and I would sing the lyrics:

What I need is a good defense

‘Cause I am feeling like a criminal

And I need to be redeemed

To the one I’ve sinned against

Because he’s all I ever knew of a love

Time passed, and I lost the title and artist name for years. In middle school, I found the song and listened to the entire album. Her deep velvet voice wrapped around me like a blanket. My middle school nights were spent in front of my Gateway Desktop computer monitor, dancing inappropriately. For the past twenty years, I have repeated this ritual once a year. Now, I twirl late at night in front of my apartment listening to Slow Like Honey.

She comforts me. It’s one of the last things that remind me that I was once a kid. She is one of the few artists who have truly traveled far and wide with me.

Also, have you seen the music video for the First Taste? Run, Don’t Walk.

8. Gary & Sally in Practical Magic

This movie shaped me. Two sister witches and one is possessed by an ex-love? I was instantly sold.

As a young girl, the eldest sister casts a love spell for a perfect man, so she never falls in love - a direct result of the death of her parents. “If the man that I call for doesn’t exist, then I’ll never die of a broken heart.”

To her pleasant horror, the man she summoned does exist, and he appears to her later in life, but the spell complicates things. He is the inspector trying to find the man that she and her sister killed.

“If you stay, I won’t know if it’s because of the spell, and you won’t know if it’s because I don’t want to go to prison.” She’s right, he leaves - but not before he turns to her and says:​

“You know what? I wished for you too.”

She cries. He walks out the garden gate.

Recently, I have been forced to watch that yearning scene over and over again before bed.

These are things that have caused many sleepless nights. Let me know what has occupied your time. What have you been obsessed with? Also, sorry for typos - I just can’t edit this.