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Tom Kretchmar

@tkretchmar

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Divorce lawyer. Pretty good with food. Justified, not yet ancient.

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happy birthday rocky !

the love and support i felt from everyone @rockyhorrorbway yesterday was so immense, and i truly cannot express my gratitude in a mere insta caption.

ty for everything, and the rocky horror sapphic show will return in avengers: doomsday.

FEMME ROCKYS RISE

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A selection of the best things that happened this year, unranked, swipe for real-time footage:

— Zohran recognized Brenda as the mayor
— Anna and I dug through a DSNY garbage truck
— Dream job acquisition; so proud to be (and right at home as) a Cut Girl™️
— Personals! Revived New York Mag’s legendary dating ads, another honor/pleasure
— Nick checked me out of the hospital in drag and covered in fake blood

Happy New Year 🪽

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Always an absolute pleasure seeing my friend Tom Kretchmar in Kyushu. Our ¥1 tradition continues
even if in a more conspicuously self aware form.

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Friends. It’s Date Night In America and tonight is one I’ve been waiting for since @codycpruitt told me he was opening a second place so @libertinenyc would have a sibling. Happy to report that everything at @chateauroyalenyc is 10/10. The Dover sole was so good that I even texted fellow Doverhead @tkretchmar that there’s a new kid on the block. And don’t get me started on the frites….

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I lived in London my first two years after college. I moved there with a deliberate goal of being friendless (loverless, no; friendless, yes) thanks to a naive idea I had that by age 22 I’d overextended my extroversion into an adverse hyper-social arrested development. What I didn’t anticipate was that after a year there, the lack of anything resembling a family of friends would leave me rather at sea on existential-emotional terms. I have, therefore, always thanked the universe for bringing me a miraculous little family of incredible friends in my second year there, one of whom passed away last week right before her 51st birthday. Sarah Cronin was top of the pops in kindness, chillness, and impossibly gentle-wryness, to say nothing of her flawless taste in music and all things adjacent to it. The last time I saw her was a few years ago when I was in London for a hot second and she invited me to join her and our still-extant old gang at her pal Paul’s birthday party at her beloved Betsey Trotwood pub. Perfectly as to Sarah’s whole way of being, that birthday boy was Paul Kelly - i.e., of St. Etienne and Birdie, and the husband of Debsey Wykes, i.e., of Dolly Mixture, St. Etienne and Birdie, who I revere just about as much as Debbie Harry as these things go. Of course Sarah didn't even think to pitch the party to me on such terms, because she was so un-extra and whisper-quiet-cool when it came to the things that made her so her. In the years since then, Sarah and I swapped occasional DMs, typically when she had something interesting to share privately about something I'd posted about publicly. She had a deep knowledge of excellent things and never tried to showboat it; you’d just have to be lucky to be present when she decided she had reason to speak up. She will be deeply missed. A prayer in the secular sense: it's absolutely incredible how social media has allowed us to remain in easy contact with people from our earlier eras. Don't take that for granted. Track your old people down! Keep them in your orbit! Send them random DMs! And if they're half as cool as Sarah was, go to every party they invite you to, no matter how low key they may be about it.

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The print is free, you pay for the signature. Yesterday the market rate for getting my Mark on a Surface was about 90 minutes, more or less. Today’s price is not yesterday’s price, lucky you (maybe). We have a few of these prints I will doodle on. We’ll put them in the shop monday at noon. fee delivery anywhere in NYC. Free delivery in NYC for purchases over $1999, party like it is that particular year.

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Last night @superiorityburger threw an amazing four course dinner party as an essential premeditated alternative to doomscrolling the evening away. If there’s a place I can be with so many of my people listening to the Mekons mix into Madonna while chomping on tomato pie and vegan strawberry shortcake there may just possibly be hope for this fucked up country eventually, and there’s at least beauty and menschkeit in NYC for the time being. The photo here isn’t some sort of feckless prayer circle; it’s our table showing off our ad hoc SB ink stamp wrist tats, which may well be a shibboleth for the sane brigade for the next four or forty years.

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Inspired as I often am by @tkretchmar I’ve been working on my home tuna melt recipe over the past few years. I’ve recently decided I prefer a closed sandwich rather than open face. Low heat on a nonstick frying pan. Mayonnaise as the “oil” for the bread. Used the @nytcooking recipe for the tuna salad, but think I would remove the lemon juice on my next try. Was too sour (and I halved the recommended amount). This is very close to my ideal. Plate made by a local Fukuoka craftswoman. Wish I knew her IG.

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Another delightfully, satisfyingly over the top meal at @ilisnyc. Cameo by my book and (not pictured) the also delightful and satisfying @tkretchmar. (It was also very satisfying to be able to bike home from Greenpoint to Woodside.)

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I know I do the whole “I got the receipts” bit a lot re: things becoming trendy that I was on top of ages ago - you need to humor me on this, it’s my version of becoming middle-aged curmudgeonly and it’s better than the other versions where people just become assholes - but really the above, which I stumbled across today, is not about me being a Sophie Ellis-Bextor fan since the day I moved to London in the summer of 2000 (right when her massive hit Groovejet was at the top of the charts), it’s about @charlesfinchauthor (who probably doesn’t even remember his tweet above) fantastically (in the literal secondary definition of the word) forecasting and perhaps even manifesting what would happen a few years later with Saltburn. And yes, as if there could be any doubt, the link in his tweet is to the video for Murder on the Dancefloor. Take a bow, @charlesfinchauthor!

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Thank you @presslerj for capturing this beautiful photo of me cradling our table’s petit four monster at @cafecarmellini tonight. Don’t call it jolie laide; call it love.

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