
This week I want to introduce you to a woman you haven't met yet. And before I tell you about Madame J, I have to tell you about Elle.
Elle was my imaginary friend when I was eight. A 1920s movie star with a jet black bob, cupid bow lips, and apartments in Paris, Hollywood, and New York City. Whenever I opened the imaginary door to her apartment I never knew which city I'd land in. Sometimes I held up a bottle of Palmolive soap and accepted awards alongside her while I did the dishes. She was the fun place to go.
Madame J is not Elle. But there are qualities to her that remind me of Elle, as if these were real women who simply knew each other.
This week I talk about:
- The childhood imaginary cast: Berg, Peter, Betty, and Elle
- What this season of life made possible that my eight-year-old imagination couldn't
- Why I wanted to write women I'd actually want to spend time with. She's not nice, but she's kind.
- The short story serial tradition: Sherlock Holmes, Agatha Christie, Beatrix Potter
- Bringing Madame J to life with illustrator Gemini.H
- My 26 girl cousins, the matriarchy, and the women we surround ourselves with
Madame J arrives June 2nd on Substack. Five installments. Every Tuesday. Free to read.
Connect: Instagram @judithgaton | Substack for weekly essays
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