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Fade into 2026

Paige Bowers
Paige Bowers
6 min read
Fade into 2026
Year after year, I eat this on January 1. Because if I don't, then I'll spend the next 365 days paranoid that something's going to go wrong. It's a Southern thing. IYKYK.

Hello reader,

Happy New Year.

When I reflect on 2025, I know that despite the headlines, it was full of blessings, from meaningful travel, to engrossing work, and the knowledge that I have good and loving people in my life. I am grateful for the community I have here with you, and grateful that this time next year, my kid will have completed college and likely be on to bigger and better things. My cholesterol isn't quite where it should be, but that's fixable. When I look at the big picture, life is very good.

And yet...

There comes a time in every girl's life where she meets that stylist who just knows how to cut her hair, knows all of her good and bad, and knows how to hold space for her, no matter what. For me, that was Sid. Anyone who knows me well, knows how much I carried on about him. He is the reason why my pixie haircut – that very emblematic bit of my being, aside from my nerd glasses – is picture-perfect. He is the reason why my author photo not only looks the way it does, but exists at all. He is the person who fussed over me and with me in his chair, and one year created a custom Billie Eilish wig so I could horrify my then-teenager for Halloween. He checked on me during COVID lockdown because he knew that I was going to lose my mind without a cut every four weeks. He knew that I would try to trim my hair on my own (he was not wrong), and that the results were going to be epically bad by the time I got back into his chair. Again, he was not wrong.

But it wasn't just about him cutting my hair. He was this light angelic person with a twisted sense of humor and a big heart, who liked to talk about Stoicism, and religion, and travel, and the insanity of the world. He remembered what I said in his chair months before and would ask how that was going, by the way. At the end of the cut, he would give me a big hug and send me on my way, and I would leave with the feeling that I needed that, and thank God for him.

Thank God for him. I wonder if he knew how much I loved him, because I did. Unexpectedly, and astonishingly, he passed away this week and there are so many people who loved him and will miss him.

I don't have any 2026 in or out lists for you (yet), I don't have any mantras, or kick 2026's ass playlists (which would likely include "View to a Kill"). What do I have is gratitude, a ton of Southern New Year's leftovers, and some memories of a tender soul.

Hug your people, people. I was going to share to a story I wrote about the Miami City Ballet's 40th anniversary this week, but it felt right to share one I just wrote about artist Nicole Newsted instead. We need art right now, and need to support those who make it. We also need to embrace the things that make us feel light and happy as she continues to do. And, we also need to be a little bit metal in 2026; Newsted's husband is former Metallica bassist Jason Newsted, so...may all of us rock on this year.

XO,

Paige


Toy Story

Nicole Newsted’s art celebrates the joy of things we never truly outgrow

Photo: Benjamin Rusnak for Stuart Magazine

About 15 years ago, artist Nicole Newsted decided she was done with Hello Kitty, even though the bow-wearing feline had been there for her for better or for worse since her childhood in upstate New York.

“I’ve always been drawn to this type of imagery—toys and stuffed animals—that feels sort of trivial but for me, has held something more magical,” recalls Newsted, 45. “I don’t know if it was because I grew up in a rural area and anthropomorphized these creatures and made friends with them when I was young. But when I turned 30, I told my husband, ‘This is it. I’m an adult. I’m giving up Hello Kitty. I’m so over her.’ And you know what? That lasted six months. I just couldn’t do it.”

Since that epiphany, Newsted has been leaning into the things that inspire her most, and has since filled her new Tequesta studio with the fluffy, colorful objects that captured her imagination as a child. For Newsted, these timeworn objects have unlocked memories that she is pouring into her work, which is displayed at the Avant Gallery in Miami and in collections across the United States, Europe, the Middle East, and Asia.

“Her work has a subtle sense of humor, which I like,” says Anthony Record, curator at Lighthouse Art Center. “Obviously it references childhood with these toys and happy memories, where everything is fluffy and candy colored. But Nicole teases out these interesting emotional layers in her work, where, for example, you’ll have an old toy that looks really exhausted and done.”

Art was an inevitable career path for Newsted. She grew up on a property in upstate New York that her grandfather owned—but her father, his brothers, and many other relatives wound up living there, too. “It wasn’t a weird commune or anything like that,” she says. “It was just a group of progressive people who were all very talented.”

For the rest of the story, which runs in this month's Stuart Magazine, please click here.


Writing prompt: Write about something from your youth that you just can't let go of? Why can't you let go of it, and what sort of place does it have in your life right now?


Photo of Sid by David Clifton Strawn
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay."
-- Robert Frost

Endnotes

Maybe you're dieting, or maybe you could use a batch of these

So what if I cut the parchment sloppy. The cookies were divine.

There's a sweet little restaurant in Paris called Mokonuts, and they make these truly delightful Rye-Cranberry Chocolate Chunk Cookies that will knock your socks off. I would never lie to you about something like this, so here is a gift link to the recipe. Try them and let me know what you think. FYI: I made some on New Year's Eve and they didn't last long, so you've been warned.

2026 Bingo

Writer Joshilyn Jackson featured a fun idea on her Instagram page. It's 2026 Bingo and here's how it works: 1. make a bingo card, 2. write something you can complete quickly in the middle square (that's your free space), 3. then scatter eight things you can control onto the squares, like "finish your stupid book proposal already, Paige. You're not getting any younger.", 4. then scatter eight things you have partial control over, like...whatever, and then 5. fill the remaining eight squares with wishes for other people, or things you want to make happen. I'm going to make my bingo card today. Join me? Or, hit reply and let me know what you might put on yours. Finally, Joshilyn has a new book "Missing Sister" coming out in March, so be sure to get your preorder on ASAP!

If you can, please consider...

...reaching out to someone you haven't talked to in a while. A New Year catchup session would probably be good for both of you.

atlantabiographychocolatecookiescookingcreativityfeature writingfreelance writerinterviewartnicole newstedstuart magazinegood thingsmental healthnonfictionparisprofile writingrecipetraveltruthgratitude

Paige Bowers

Paige Bowers is a journalist and the author of two biographies about bold, barrier-breaking women in history.

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