Let Them Eat Depression Cake
If one thing's true in war, perfumery, hope and cakery, it's that women will always save the day.
I yearn for the day where men aren’t responsible for the destruction and demise of, well, literally everything - notwithstanding global politics, economic systems, legislation and the sanity of women. But alas, there is little light at the end of the manosphere and once again women are left responsible to pick up the pieces, and with the burden of bringing light to the darkest of times.*
Paris is calling (!!) and you’re telling me that I’m supposed to sit idly by while that orange f*ck (I can say it, I’m a redhead) puts my ability to boulange’, patiss’, ‘frite and ‘cargot in detriment? There are Buly combs waiting with my name on them.
You’re telling me that a man, who - after decades of repeated offence - still can’t choose the correct fake tan undertone, is responsible for my whimsy and good fortune? This just can’t be right.
(I am acutely aware of my privilege in the grand scheme of war, and of my out-of-touch hyperbole - I write about beauty, pop culture and cake; this is essentially fantasy lit without the dragons and fairies). Moving on.
I’ve been thinking a lot about ‘Depression Cake’, as a confectionary, yes, but also as a concept, and how women are historically assigned responsibility for the literal and metaphorical Depression Cakes of society. Following the stock market crash in 1929, an eggless, dairy-less, low-sugar chocolate cake recipe was developed to bring joy and normalcy to family life within their new financial means. Baking turned from a luxury to a science as women relied on chemical reactions to leaven (vinegar and bicarb as a sub for eggs) and galvanised media (radio, periodicals) to spread the word.
The original influencer, Betty Crocker (a fictional marketing alias and never a real person FYI!!) was pioneering in food media at the time, popularising Depression Cake through the Betty Crocker Cooking School of the Air, the national radio cooking show responsible for turning the persona into a household name.
Getting back to the point; it’s quite pertinent, the mess men continue to make - on a global geopolitical scale of course, but also at an individual level - for their inability to communicate, convey emotion or navigate conflict. And how, instead of getting consumed by bitterness or retaliation, women will bring sweetness to the world, time and time again.
In music…
I think about Olivia Dean’s The Art of Loving, an album that turns heartbreak, disappointment, distance, melancholy and mess into reflection, vulnerability, connection, emotional honesty and gentle growth. It’s a chameleonic album that sounds entirely different depending on the mindset you’re listening from. I hear it with new ears every time I hit play.
I think about Lily Allen’s West End Girl, which turns gut-wrenching betrayal, manipulation and ego death of a sex-pest narcissist into 14 tracks of a stand-up-meets-musical masterpiece that you can’t help but listen to with a smirk, scoff or dropped jaw at any given moment.
I think about Raye’s new record, THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE., which, well, does exactly what it says on the tin. This album is Depression Cake personified. A Hans Zimmer-laced magnum opus. Sonically it’s operatic; unbridled fantasy. Lyrically it’s unrelenting realism, a stream of consciousness that strives to overcome darkness, mundanity, WhatsApp Shakespeares, patriarchy, societal expectations and hating the way you look.
In health…
I think about Julie, the morning-after pill reimagined by the team behind Starface pimple patches, who have been wildly successful in their pursuit to destigmatise the female experience, one category at a time. While male politicians are revoking women of their health and reproductive rights globally, the beauty industry’s sharpest minds are one step ahead, positively reappropriating healthcare with humour and humanity above all else. Shameless in the best sense of the word, their approach is all parts refreshing and revolutionary, and Depression Cake AF. (As an aside, Brian Bordainick and Julie Schott have also developed Blip, a bombastically cool Z-coded nicotine-replacement brand helping the next-gen quit their vape and ciggie addictions. So sick).
In fragrance…
I think about Leonard Lauder’s ‘lipstick effect’, of course, and how women drive economies through beauty, fashion, music and hospitality, but even more so how that’s evolved into a ‘fragrance effect’ post COVID. While the first stage of this shift saw a steep lift in sales for sweet, nostalgic gourmand scents; think Sol de Janeiro’s Cheirosa 62, PHLUR’s Vanilla Skin, Kayali’s Vanilla 28, Maison Margiela’s Afternoon Delight and the recent reprise of Byredo’s Vanille Antique - and the second stage brought us a slew of lower-priced mist formats - I believe the third stage will be led by consumer rather than brand, who will come to realise that in many cases, there is little difference between a luxury perfume and one from the chemist, bar the shelf it sits on.
‘Depression Caking’ fragrance is realising that professional perfumery is a highly exclusive industry (read: small) and in many cases, the noses behind the world’s most expensive scents are the same noses behind the discount scents you stick your nose up to. (No shame because if anyone’s guilty of this, it’s me!).
Third-wave fumeheads aren’t looking to brands - we’re looking to noses, and to the fragrance houses they work for (IFF, Givaudan, Robertet, Firmench etc). Unless you’re shopping for a Frederic Malle scent, the first brand to credit perfumers by popping their name on the label, Fragrantica will be your best friend.
Jerome Epinette (Robertet) is a famed hi-lo perfumer, responsible for luxury icons like Byredo’s Bal D’Afrique, and Victoria Beckham Beauty and Vilhelm Parfumerie’s extended ranges, mid-level scents from Selena Gomez’s Rare Beauty and Harry Styles’ Pleasing lines, and accessible fumes from Sol de Janeiro, PHLUR, & Other Stories and Zara.
Fabrice Pellegrin (DSM-Firmench) might be the nose behind Diptyque classics Do Son, Eau Duelle and Eau Rose (and Jo Malone’s Blackberry & Bay!) but he’s also the mastermind behind insider-favourite high street scents from Zara and Massimo Dutti.
Gourmand legend Clement Gavarry (DSM-Firmench) created Ariana Grande’s culted chemist find, Cloud EDP, and its latter day disciple, PHLUR’s Vanilla Skin - but also Tom Ford’s Black Violet, Sarah Jessica Parker’s Lovely, and Prada’s first fragrance, Prada.
You’ll begin to notice how many of your favourites are nosed by the same perfumer, regardless of their price (e.g. my $520 Dries Van Noten Vanille Camouflage, $210 Tsu Lange Yor POOL and $80 Massimo Dutti Golden Bloom, unbeknownst to me were all developed by Alexandra Monet).
In conclusion…
I think about how GLP-1s modulate dopamine signalling, which is a dire price to pay for skinny. Apathy is one thing, but medicating the joy, ambition and ruach out of life is a devastating alternative. The pressure on women to be as small as possible is rife, and with increased access to peptide treatments, soon there’ll be no excuse not to comply.
But if desire is dead, our hunger forgone, and there’s no one left to bake - or eat - the Depression Cake, where does that leave us?
*Not all men, yes, but a helluva lot of them, my friends. A helluva lot.