Welcome to The Callaway Report!
If this title gives you deja vu, don’t worry. You probably have heard it before: The Callaway Report is the same name as the blog I launched in 2016, shortly after opening my communications agency, The Callaway.
For those who didn’t subscribe to The Report (also known as TCR) back in the day, it featured long-form interviews with interesting Nashvillians, accompanied by original photography taken by super-talented local photographers. You can still access the full TCR catalogue here.
I loved doing TCR. But man, it was a lot of work. And I was a one-woman show, conceiving, writing, editing, producing, and art directing two magazine-length posts a month. For some folks, that’s a full-time job. I was doing it while running a start-up.
That said, I wasn’t carrying a full load of clients at the start. So I had time to devote five or six (or more) hours a week to making every post perfect(ish). It was worth it: TCR ended up being a great selling tool for my company, demonstrating to potential clients that I was tapped into the community while also defining my aesthetic. It also allowed me to flex my writing chops, honed at daily newspaper jobs and magazine gigs over the course of my now thirty-plus year career.
Plus, it was really fun — and a purely creative outlet for me while I was learning to navigate the business side of my baby company.
As The Callaway grew, producing TCR became more challenging. As positive an experience as it was, it became a drain on my time, my company’s resources, and the patience of my employees. I tried simplifying the format, but ultimately I was so attached to the long-form concept that I decided I’d rather stop publishing than tarnish my golden ideal.
These days, humbled by COVID’s brutal realities and the downsizing of my company in May 2020, I’m feeling a lot less precious about my work. This Substack relaunch is my chance to explore what that pivot might have looked like had I not been so fucking stubborn.
This time around, I want to get away from a locked-and-loaded layout and let the story tell me what kind of format it needs in order to shine. Expect to see essays, for sure, but also lists, roundups, guides, Q&As, email interviews, text chains, mixed tapes, guest posts — anything goes.
I’m challenging myself to abandon rules and embrace the random.
One week, I might share a story about my fashion writer past, or my struggles with mental health, a topic that’s very important to me. The next might feature an interview with someone whose big ideas or personal style does it for me. I love it when other writers run personalized “best” lists, so I’ll do the same, giving hot-takes on things that I love right this moment (kicking the wheels of this concept at the end of this post). And I’m pretty excited to be able to publish photos and backstories of some of the most special pieces in my closet(s). Gonna make those frocks talk!
I plan to keep a lot of the content focused on Nashville — so many untold stories here, and so much interest out there. But there’s a big world beyond Middle Tennessee, and I wont ignore that. Plus, a change of scenery is always a good thing — and I do love a road trip. First up on the travel tip: a two-week trip to France in early June. (I smell a Paris guide!)
I’ll also be writing about my lifelong love of interiors and antiques, with frequent guest appearances by The Callaway Compound, the name I gave my home during its major 18-month renovation a few years back. Vintage lovers will be happy to know that I’ll dig into my collection for show-and-tell and also document some of my expansive secondhand scouting excursions. (I may even shop-to-sell some things on here once I figure out how to do it.)
I’ll share my thoughts on modern fashion, too. And pop culture. And food. And beauty. And music. And media. And dating. And getting older (spoiler: it's not for the weak). And, yes, politics: the stakes are just too high right now for me not to get loud, especially here in Tennessee.
If what you’ve just read sounds intriguing, then you’re in the right place. If you’re not quite sure that TCR is your thing, I hope that you’ll give me a few weeks to dazzle you before you make the decision to give me the old 86.
And to those of you who have never seen my editorial side before this, welcome. I’m so glad you’re here!
NOTE | If you didn’t sign up to receive this email, I can explain. I sent free subscriptions to everyone on my former TCR list. Of course, I’d love it if you stuck around. But if this isn’t for you, please feel free to unsubscribe.
FAVORITES | Random Things That Are On My Mind
YELLOWJACKETS. Everyone is talking about the finale of Succession airing this Sunday — and make no mistake, I’m on pins and needles to find out who gets the gold. But I’m equally interested in what’s going to happen during the season two closer of Yellowjackets, a show I have described to friends as being an all-chick Donner Party set to a soundtrack by L7. The writing is smart, clever, and the best kind of weird. The dual casting of characters as ‘90s high schoolers and their modern forty-something counterparts (a lot is told in flash backs) is spot-on. All that and Melanie Lynskey, too. Second season wraps tonight on Showtime. I recommend binging both over Memorial Day Weekend.
TANGERINE SUIT FROM ANOTHER TOMORROW. I recently helped out with a dinner party that the chic, sustainable fashion brand Another Tomorrow hosted in Nashville at the home of the divine artist Kelley Estes (check out her beautiful sculptures here). As a thank you, AT gifted me a baller orange pantsuit. I’ve worn it as a suit and as separates and get compliments every time. At the dinner, I sat across from the brand’s new-ish creative director, Elizabeth Giardina, and she’s all kinds of cool — something that really comes across in her designs. Check them out.
YDRIVE MOBILE FITNESS. A few years ago, my friend Vadie mentioned a new exercise program she and her mom had taken up. A few times a week, a personal trainer named Monica pulled up outside their home in a box truck full of gym equipment to work them out. I was intrigued. It took me a while to abandon my longtime Pilates routine, but I am very happy to say that I’m now engaged in the thoughtful (and fun!) strength-building program that YDrive has customized for me. (I have back problems, so the fact that members of the team are also occupational therapists was a real draw for me.) I have to work out early morning or I’ll spend all day dreading it. So Monica comes to me at 5:30 AM on Mondays, and her colleague Stacey pulls up to the Compound at an only slightly more reasonable 6 AM on Wednesdays. It’s a huge testament to their work that I have never once dreaded seeing their blue truck outside — and they even make me do cardio! I’m sold.
PURPLE WOMBOK CABBAGE. I’d never seen the purple version of this pretty little veggie, also called Chinese cabbage, before spotting it last Saturday at the Nashville Farmer’s Market. The color is what first caught my eye. But what convinced me to buy some was remembering the Bright Cabbage Slaw recipe from chef Samin Nosrat’s essential cookbook, Salt Fat Acid Heat. It’s the perfect summer side. Today, my lunch was cold fried chicken from Publix (the preferred fried chicken of most chefs I know, by the way) and a heaping plate of gorgeous aubergine-hued wombok slaw. Highly recommend.
TINA TURNER. I was standing in line at the East Nashville post office on Wednesday afternoon when the NY Times alert came through: “Tina Turner, Dead at 83.” Shocked, I blurted out the news to the people standing around me. Everyone gasped. Another legend, gone.
If you drove on the interstates around Nashville yesterday, you might have spotted the digital Tina memorials lighting up the billboards. The one I saw had very little copy: just her name beside a killer ‘80s-era concert image, and a simple caption: “The Best.” Born a few hours west of Nashville in Brownsville, Tennessee, and raised in nearby Nutbush, Tina was “one of ours.” Tennessee had lost yet another angel to the heavenly choir.
Like many Gen Xers, I got to know Tina in the early ‘80s, when she made her spectacular comeback. Her songs were everywhere on the radio; her leggy videos were in heavy rotation on MTV. Her voice, her look, her smile — she was mesmerizing. In 1984, Like a Virgin-era Madonna’s slutty bride costume had nothing on Tina’s punky leather mini skirts and shorty, sexy spangle-dipped dresses.
I was an avid reader of my dad’s Rolling Stone magazines from grammar school on, so I assume that’s how I learned that Tina had a huge career before Private Dancer made her a superstar all over again. She and her abusive husband Ike (who, unfortunately, died before cancel culture could bury his ass) made music history in the ‘60s and ‘70s.
The early ‘80s might have also been when my dad shared that Tina and Ike used to play basement gigs in his fraternity house at the University of Virginia. This was the late ‘50s/early ‘60s. If I remember the story correctly, some of his brothers booked I&T after seeing them play at a nearby club.
(Total non-sequitur, but kinda related, as it involves another celebrity sighting at UVA: According to Mike Callaway, William Faulkner, who was Writer-In-Residence at the University from 1957-1962, used to regularly crash parties at the SAE house. Apparently, whenever there was drinking to be done, Oxford’s favorite son would roll in to help the kids out. Wonder if he and the Turners ever ran into each other.)
I would have loved to have seen ‘60s-era Tina in that intimate basement setting. I’m sure that her high-energy vocals and epic dance moves (and legs!) blew those kids away. The only negative to seeing her perform this early in her career would be that she had yet to record my very favorite of her songs, “River Deep, Mountain High.” Listening gives me full body chills, every time.
Rest in peace, Tina. You were one of a kind. I’m going to let you play us out.
Until next week,
Libby
Welcome, dear Libby! I know we're in for a treat! xo