I didn’t make a 2026 vision board. I made a Cher board.
hello, from my couch.
The 1996 Christmas hit by the Spice Girls, “When 2 become 1,” could just as easily describe the time between Christmas and New Year’s, and my spiritual and physical merging with the couch. It’s that beautiful quiet when everyone stops emailing, expects texts back, and I give myself permission to ignore all. Everything pauses, and it’s all okay.
It brings out a side of me that only comes out once a year. Holiday soundtracks, candles multiplying around the house, and revisiting old television classics. This year, though, arrived with a very specific aesthetic.
This may get me shot by a firing squad of gays, but I was not actually familiar with the full extent of Cher’s glamour. I know the songs, the drag impersonations, and that iconic interview where she calls herself a rich man. But what started as a casual viewing of Moonstruck quickly turned into an IMDB binge, from The Witches of Eastwick to Mermaids, which may have changed my life. And by life, I mean wardrobe, which, really, is the same thing.
Her sense of style shook me right down to my Bombas socks. For a full eight-hour marathon, I came to appreciate (objectify) the most essential facets of Cher: her insane body and stunning sense of style. I literally had to hit ‘pause’ and Google the fuzzy green sweater she was wearing because I refuse to go on without it. I, who have recently taken to dressing like an oversized pillowcase, found a new purpose in her skintight capri pants. Midway, I spit out my third snack of the day and pushed the plate away—as a symbolic promise that I will never need to eat again.
When it comes to goals, I need things to be hyper-specific and tangible. “More glamour in 2026” only works if I can see it. Visual obsession is the clearest form of self-direction. A collage. A reference. Something to pull up when I’m unsure what to wear, how to show up, or which version of myself I’m trying to embody.
And then I put it on my actual vision board—the real one. This is not an ad, as I am certainly not getting paid, but I love Milanote. I spent a few days planning my year and then color-coding it in Canva. I write out my goals, keep myself accountable, or flexible whenever life comes up. Whatever I want to make real, I need to see everything all at once. Some people make resolutions. I make boards.
Maybe that’s the real use of this introverted week: noticing what pulls at you, what you pause for, or what to invite more of. For me, this year begins with Cher.
And just in case you want to steal my shopping cart. I found a version of the green sweater. But if you sell out these Norma Kamali capris before I have a chance to purchase them, so help me God.
Up next: Tea with Mussolini.
