A Love Letter to Female Friendship

Delaney Pipon

“A love letter to female friendships.”

This is the title of my favorite Spotify playlist. Within it:

This Is What Makes Us Girls. Lana Del Rey.

True Blue. boygenius. 

Secrets from a Girl (Who’s Seen it All). Lorde.

Feels Like. Gracie Abrams. 

Clay Pigeons. Michael Cera. 

Gold Dust Woman. Fleetwood Mac. 

My secret recipe for curating a playlist for someone you love:

• Extract 3, or 7, or maybe 95 of the most gut-wrenchingly special songs. Sacred songs.

  • The song that would pulsate through your car on the first spring day that you rode with the windows down. Max volume. Bass boosted. 

• The song that would ripple and echo off the walls of the Urban Outfitters fitting room. Low-rise, medium-wash jeans. Shrieks and cheers and whistles of praise. “God, I love my friends.”

• The song with lyrics that rip and tear at clippings of your past and pierce them to a mental corkboard. You recommend it to everyone because it’s easier than talking about what actually happened last year. 

• Uproot these songs from their archives and lay them out in front of you. 

• Intertwine and overlay these songs. Let the lyrics bleed into each other. There is no correct, systematic order, just intuition. Maybe whatever feels aesthetically pleasing to you. Maybe there’s something spiritual about a Lana Del Rey to-house music pipeline. A seance of silk bows, champagne glitter, and clasped hands. 

• Name it. Dedicate it to someone, something, or some vague, nuanced feeling. 

  • Something fleeting, but memorable: Carrie Bradshaw in season four of Sex and The City, the summer of 2018, a latte with oat milk and two pumps of vanilla. 

• Or maybe something so big and vibrant and ever-changing that it seeps through the constraints of time: A love letter to my female friends. When curating a playlist of such sacred nature, treat it with delicacy. It deserves i’s dotted with hearts, a label woven with care and consideration. Pretty packaging. 

• Play it habitually. Let each song unravel onto the next until it pools out in front of you. 

  • Treat it like it’s a prayer before a meal. A blessing before the bar. A 4 p.m. post-class ritual. A reminder. A handwritten sticky note. A hand that holds back your hair. “Two caesar salads and a basket of fries, please!” Casual affection. A love letter to female friendships. 

Edited by Julia Maynard & Kate Castello