metonymy is everything everything is metonymy my head is sick today here are some outfits

If everything is everything, how do you sleep at night.

If everything is metonymy which I think it is what does that leave me. Where does that leave me.

Everything is everything which is wonderful because it means everything is the same, it’s all of a piece. You aren’t ever off the hook because the clothes you’re wearing and the food you’re eating and the job you’re doing are your politics and you gotta do them all the same. I know this is making it sound like I’m going to ramble about the same stuff I always ramble about (sweatshoppppps) but oh no today I am going to ramble different.


My life is one singular being. This makes me feel calm the way that a long day at work washes your brain. You feel pure and protected in your cocoon in your world of good work.

Work is a game. I don’t like games because games are not work but this work is a game and I love the game.

But I can almost begin to see a time when I’ve gone a few levels up in the game maybe even won the game whatever the hell that means. And that is the most terrifying thing because without the game without the work I’m not sure who I am.


I always want intensity or nothing but that leaves you with nothing when you don’t have the intensity.

Nothing can be somewhat of a problem.

Metonymy is this thing of when one thing is a metaphor for everything or something else.

Like me I, I, I, I: Lagusta right now, the soul that is typing this is also a metaphor in this weird way for this business called Lagusta’s Luscious.

It is very strange to be a metaphor.

A symbol. The signifier and the signified, it’s some Foucault, some kind of Lacan shit.

The other day I was talking to my mom and she said so what you’re saying is that there might come a time in the future when I could like buy your chocolates at whole foods. Like I could go to whole foods and see your face on a box

I mean I guess it is the goal but it kind of made me want to throw up.

Because if I am in whole paycheck with my weird profile with a knife in my hair and my perfect posture then also I am sitting here writing a blog post all slumped over dirty hair jumpsuit:

I have made weird choices with this business and these choices make me feel strange. Choices to make Lagusta into Lagusta™. If I had known things would get like this I might not have done this in these ways but I didn’t think and it’s ten years later and here we are.

There could come a time when the work is not so grueling when it calms down and it’s not so messy and wild it’s straight and angular

maybe even some machines do more of it.

Right now things are so messy and wild. I am a very precise person and is only in my work that I allow things to have that core of messiness and wilderness. Wabi fucking sabi, dude.

Do you know what I mean? Like it’s only because the bills are paid and the bills are filed and the emails are answered that I can make a kind of weird kind of thing that metonymies all the intensity and wilderness in my soul and then we pour that weird thing into pastry bags and pipe it into chocolate shells and back off the shells and tap them out gently, one big firm tap and if it’s a good day they all come out with a noise like this (sometimes in the middle of the night I watch that video over and over, holding my breath waiting for the noise) and you put them into a truffle cup and someone gives you $2.16 for one.

Does the logo of me stand for me of course not and of course it does

Have been reading a lot of Gertrude Stein and a lot of Eileen Myles.


I always want intensity or nothing but that leaves you with nothing when you don’t have the intensity.

I’m completely fine with me to be the signifier and the sign right now—both a product and a person. Right now. Most of the time, anyway. Most of the time it’s seamless and only hurts a little.

Like: I really fucking can’t stand Halloween and I think it’s complete idiocy, that is, the soul-me thinks that. Control freaks don’t like being scared. And masks—forget it. I spend my life trying to figure out people’s faces since faces are not what I am able to focus on and all people (which means all customers, since I’m not usually out in the world to see “people”) meld into one big flat moon face—”person.” When I figure out that a repeat customer is a repeat customer it’s this huge giant soul-victory. I guess Halloween is the one day you’re allowed not to know, but still. Adding barriers does not help / lack of control over this knowledge is horrible.

But the point is I’m getting to this place where I can smile and I can genuinely enjoy interacting with customers and even their Halloween costumes. Even though something about it is so not right for me—the me that is Lagusta—it’s perfectly fine for the me that is Lagusta’s Luscious. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. It’s not selling out it’s just learning. 

There are very few places where the person and the business divide, is the thing.

That’s weird and unhealthy in a larger way but for right now that’s allowable and it’s okay.

Mostly we are unified: signifier, signified, the metonymy of me and me. Lagusta™ and Lagusta.






But maybe in a few years when I’ve gone a few more levels up in the game I might need to think about pushing those divisions a little bit. Untangling Lagusta™ and Lagusta and who knows if it can be done.

And that’s pretty much the most black hole terrifying my life right now:

This is all great but someday maybe I should separate.

And when I do there’s not going to be much on the non-™ side of things. Books and cooking nice meals, I guess. Friends—not so into them lately. Can’t do it, a lot of the time. Most of the time. Don’t know how to slip out of business-owner head and into friendship land. Don’t even care to put in the effort, really. I want to sink into someone’s arms with my crushing exhaustion at the end of the day, and you really can’t do that with most friends. And if I don’t have the crushing exhaustion I feel the heart of darkness, like I’m worthless because what the fuck was I doing all day then.

Have I mentioned that I always want intensity or nothing but that leaves you with nothing when you don’t have the intensity?


(Not technically an outfit photo; from a day when I dressed up as Kate for kicks. I really nailed it.)

When I get like this Lucy suggests I take the day off, go for a hike. There are certain sorts of people who live in the Hudson Valley for whom hikes fix everything—even problems caused by literary terms—and I seem to know a lot of them. They are good people, who aren’t often apt to have metonymy problems. It’s true the shop can run without me now, and it’s true that hikes are nice when you get up there, breathing new air and the majesty of nature and shit. But Jacob who knows me like mountains know mountain breezes texts me from somewhere in the bowels of Manhattan where he’s production managing a festival: “I bet you could dig into a project that would make you feel great, like rearranging the box/stereo shelves. ;)” And instantly it makes me feel better because that’s what I need.


Also I can work on my pulled sugar ribbons tonight and that will put my head back. I bought a new heat lamp, and a new book on sugarwork. Metonymy. This pulled sugar ribbon, this sugar deer, and his boyfriend, the one all melted in the background, they stand for me putting my head back together in the only way I know how: a clean quiet kitchen, a precise recipe.


You measure the ingredients to the exact gram and you take it off the stove when it’s at the exact right temperature and a good result is pretty much guaranteed. It’s how I know how to feel good, right now.


2 Responses to “metonymy is everything everything is metonymy my head is sick today here are some outfits”

  1. zoe p.

    For people, like me, who don’t like metaphoric thought, metonymy is a break from metaphors. An alternative. One thing is not standing in for another separate, absent, different (but, inevitably, not different) thing, the relationship is more intimate, as you describe. Or more physical or material. But that makes it notametaphor, which feels good to me. Metaphors just set my teeth on edge. Or, sometimes, when the signifier and signified collapse a bit and have a physical, material and/or causeandeffect relationship, people think of it as an index?

    • lagusta

      Yeah, that’s a good way to explain it! Metonymy *isn’t* metaphor, it’s a weird metaphor-cousin. Thanks for the clarification.


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