Rage against the daily diet of sleaze, rule bending, and the Brexit morass that is hobbling Boris Johnson’s government has produced a counter-blast of ridicule and satire of the kind the British are best at. Wit, it seems, is the only weapon left against the Tories’ bulldozing majority, and they’d probably like to put a stop to that too. It’s coming from columnists such as the incomparable Marina Hyde, in The Guardian, whose cuts are sharp and who is very funny indeed. But for me, the daily balancer for sanity are the tweets of one Sarah Murphy. I can’t find out much about her, even though she has 90,600 followers and looks really nice in her Twitter avatar. She speaks for many of us: “How dare this govt take what’s ours and break it?” she’s posted. “How dare these raging mediocrities claim to represent us without protecting us? How dare they game and trash this country, its businesses, its reputation, its prosperity and our futures…for their own greed. How fucking dare they?” Quite so. (twitter.com) —James Fox

From the outside, the End of History, a tiny West Village shop that sells vintage glassware and ceramics, looks like it couldn’t hold more than a few dozen vases and bowls. But, somehow, the store manages to stack a couple of thousand decanters, perfume bottles, ashtrays, urns, and small porcelain figurines of Greco-Roman wrestlers. Opened by Stephen Saunders in 1997, back when Hudson Street was “the cheapest place to open a store,” the End of History sells decorative pieces that can cost as little as $150 or north of $15,000. Considering the store’s range and volume, I recommend telling the person behind the register a price, a color, and a style. The employees seem to know every object for sale, and exactly where they are placed. (theendofhistoryshop.com) —Jensen Davis

One of our favorite shops in Connecticut has nailed the Fair Isle sweater—and just in time. Plain Goods, a destination in New Preston from proprietors Michael DePerno and Andrew Fry, doesn’t mess around when it comes to cold-weather dressing. Their new assortment of marled marvels makes for the kind of foolproof gift that merits buying in bulk. Oyster and cream or dark teal and rosebud? You do you, but it’s hard to go wrong, thanks to the soft Scottish wool, forgiving (but not excessively bulky) silhouette, and ribbed, trimmed cuffs. Plain Goods’ robust e-commerce offerings will do nicely in a pinch, but, if possible, hit the store in person, because many more treasures await, including a collection of vintage sweaters. ($295, plaingoods.com) —Ashley Baker

While there’s something charming about wandering around the house in slippers reminiscent of your grandfather’s, a more elegant option awaits. Manolo Blahnik, which can do little wrong in the realm of shoes, has debuted a shearling-lined suede slipper that elevates staying in. Equally good on Saturday mornings and Saturday evenings—when one is hosting a dinner party—they are set on wooden heels, ensuring enough structure to keep your feet supported all day, or night, long. They’re available in beige and black, and are destined to be a beloved addition to any wardrobe or holiday gift exchange. ($795, net-a-porter.com) —Ashley Baker

New York City is a subject so relentlessly written about, photographed, and filmed that it can feel impossible to make it seem new. It’s a testament to the sharp observational eye of John Wilson that his semi-satirical HBO docuseries, which launched its second season last week, has pointed its camera at the city’s most familiar corners and produced a portrait that’s as poignant as it is laugh-out-loud funny. Like a David Attenborough of the concrete jungle, Wilson brings an anthropological lens to everyday occurrences, such as splitting the check, small talk, and navigating scaffolding. The magic lies in the editing; Wilson juxtaposes footage of the city’s bizarre eco-system with his own narration, which is drier than a Bemelmans Bar martini. In the hands of Wilson (and executive producer Nathan Fielder, the comedian behind the TV series Nathan for You), daily banalities are given philosophical treatment. (hbo.com) —Sarah Nechamkin

In 2006, chef Roy Shvartzapel undertook “the Mount Everest of the baking world”: panettone. He moved to Italy, even though he didn’t speak any Italian, to apprentice with Iginio Massari, the sweet-bread guru. Now Shvartzapel ships his panettones—available in candied orange raisin, pumpkin maple pecan, and chocolate—anywhere in the U.S. His are among the very few I’ve seen people actually excited to receive. They are light, slightly spongy, and, most importantly, not dry. (thisisfromroy.com) —Jensen Davis