Remember willpower? It drove you to your first Weight Watchers meeting, kicked you into step-aerobics class, bullied you to toss out your last disgusting Marlboro Light. And by “you,” I mean me. If all those examples sound dated, that’s because willpower itself seems to be a relic of the 90s. Who needs it when Ozempic and Mounjaro promise to neuter the desire for food, perhaps alcohol, and maybe everything else you crave?
And yet, after scouring Net-a-Porter for the third time today and scanning five Substack newsletters, each extolling the perfection of trousers from the Row, High Sport for travel, and Loewe for everything else, I’m feeling weak. Oh, look: the Kelly bag of my dreams has landed on the RealReal.
