Straight from the heart: the lockdown-inspired love letter boom

Not since pre-internet days has there been such a resurgence in romantic letter writing. Elle Hunt hears the stories behind the handwritten dispatches – and whether the senders lived happily ever after IRL

In March last year, as lockdown was starting to seem inevitable, Lauren turned to her colleague Paul with a proposition: “Will you be my penpal?” Though they had worked together for two years, it was only recently that they had started messaging after hours. Now they had talked more over text than they had in person, making being together in the office a bit awkward.

Their conversation was not obviously flirtatious, at least not as Lauren, 26, saw it; but she was enjoying herself enough to want to keep up contact through the lockdown – however long it might last.

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‘Oh my gosh, the kittens!’ How the pandemic unleashed bedlam in veterinary clinics

Staff attrition, high demand for appointments and enraged human clients have strained vet practices across the US

Early in the pandemic, Dr Monica Mansfield, a veterinarian based in Medway, Massachusetts, became haunted by a recurring nightmare.

“There were these vulnerable kittens in my basement, and I forgot to feed them,” Mansfield recalls. “I’d wake up, terrified. ‘Oh my gosh, the kittens! Where are they?’ I felt like I was missing details and forgetting things that were critical to a case – that were critical to an animal’s life.”

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How standup comedy helped me conquer anxiety, depression – and fear of public speaking

Finding a humorous angle to some of my darkest episodes – and sharing them with strangers – was strangely cathartic

“Have you gone mad?” asked one friend. “You’re so brave. I could never do that. Wouldn’t meditation be wiser?” said another. For someone with a long history of depression and anxiety, plus a morbid fear of public speaking, taking up standup comedy might seem like a masochistic decision. Yet to me it makes perfect sense. Excruciating fear of failure is at the heart of most people’s aversion to attempting to make a room full of strangers laugh. But controlling that fear, and not succumbing to it, is the central reason I’ve chosen to expose myself in this very public and potentially humiliating way.

I grew up in comfortable, middle-class suburban Hertfordshire in the 1970s and 80s, but my upbringing was a complex one of emotional uncertainty. Years of therapy have lent me an understanding of how I learned to cope over the years. To avoid facing difficult issues during my childhood and teenage years I buried my emotions, and that evasion only escalated in adulthood. By my early 20s, I was mentally ill-equipped to deal with life’s thornier challenges.

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‘I feel a bit rusty’: Has Covid killed our sex lives?

The end of lockdown was supposed to herald an explosion of pent-up desire and a bonkbuster of a summer. But it’s been way more complicated than that

This year was meant to be a replay of the roaring 20s, your hot girl or boy summer. We’d be hedonistic, bacchanalian and, above all, getting laid. All the pent-up energy of lockdowns, the only time it has ever been illegal for people from different households to have sex, would explode in one helluva bonkbuster summer. But has it panned out that way? Or has Covid ruined our sex lives?

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Bernardine Evaristo on a childhood shaped by racism: ‘I was never going to give up’

My creativity can be traced back to my heritage, to the skin colour that defined how I was perceived. But, like my ancestors, I wouldn’t accept defeat


When I won the Booker prize in 2019 for my novel Girl, Woman, Other, I became an “overnight success”, after 40 years working professionally in the arts. My career hadn’t been without its achievements and recognition, but I wasn’t widely known. The novel received the kind of attention I had long desired for my work. In countless interviews, I found myself discussing my route to reaching this high point after so long. I reflected that my creativity could be traced back to my early years, cultural background and the influences that have shaped my life. Not least, my heritage and childhood

Through my father, a Nigerian immigrant who had sailed into the Motherland on the “Good Ship Empire” in 1949, I inherited a skin colour that defined how I was perceived in the country into which I was born, that is, as a foreigner, outsider, alien. I was born in 1959 in Eltham and raised in Woolwich, both in south London. Back then, it was still legal to discriminate against people based on the colour of their skin, and it would be many years before the Race Relations Acts (1965 and 1968) enshrined the full scope of anti-racist doctrine into British law.

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The great sperm heist: ‘They were playing with people’s lives’

Paul was in his 80s when someone called to say she was his daughter, conceived in a fertility clinic with his sperm. The only problem? He’d never donated any

For 40 years, Catherine Simpson thought she knew who she was: a nurse, a mother of three, a daughter and a sister. She looked like her mother, Sarah, but had the same temperament as her father, George: calm, unflustered, kind.

Then her father died. There was a dispute over his will, and that led her mother to call and tell her something that made the ground dissolve beneath her feet. George had had a vasectomy long before Catherine was born. She and her brother had been donor conceived in Harley Street using the sperm of two different anonymous men. George was not her biological father.

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Is my son, 14, a gaming addict? He spends all his time online in his room | Annalisa Barbieri

Computer games may be filling a void left by friendships that fell away over lockdown

My son is nearly 15 and my only child. His father and I separated some years ago and they see each other regularly. My son also has a good relationship with my partner, who has lived with us for a few years. He has always excelled at school and is a talented musician. When he was younger he was confident and eloquent beyond his years; he could make friends or have a conversation with anyone.

I have seen huge changes in him. Before Covid, he played in a couple of bands at school and had made friends with some older children through school productions. With lockdown, these friendships melted away and even at school he has been unable to mix with different year groups.

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Bootylicious? What the return of derriere fashion means

The cheeky 00s revival speaks volumes about cultural re-appropriation and the emergence from lockdown

The idea of what’s “sexy” has been going through something of a metamorphosis in fashion of late. Since the pandemic shuttered any semblance of flesh-bearing and instead saw virtually everyone opt for chunky, tie-dye jogging bottoms, there has been an effort to bring sexy back. The widely predicted “vaxxed and waxed” Hot Girl Summer was delayed, but recently, we’ve seen a heap of celebrities baring more than usual, whether in bodysuits or in Love Island-inspired “pin tops”.

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Linda Evangelista says she is ‘deformed’ after cosmetic treatment

The supermodel says she may have been left unrecognisable after a fat-freezing procedure

Linda Evangelista was one of the original 1990s supermodels and, alongside Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell, dominated the catwalk and fashion magazine covers in the 80s and 90s. However, she says she is “permanently deformed” after a non-surgical cosmetic surgery gone wrong.

In a post on Instagram, Evangelista said after having a procedure known as “CoolSculpting” (which involves “freezing” fat on the body and is similar to body conturing) she developed complications which have resulted in a radical change in her appearance.

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Robots, Russians and rock’n’roll – take the Thursday quiz

Fourteen questions on general knowledge and topical trivia plus a few jokes every Thursday – how will you fare?

The quiz master remains on holiday, but before he departed he left behind a crumpled up piece of paper behind a filing cabinet with 14 questions written on it which has taken ages for some poor soul at the Guardian’s office to type in. As ever, the questions are on general knowledge and topical trivia, there’s a hidden Doctor Who reference to find, there’s a picture of the divine Kate Bush, and one question is for no readily apparent reason formatted with anagrams. Have fun – let us know how you get on in the comments.

The Thursday quiz, No 22

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Release the rainbow! Why red, blue, yellow, pink and orange are the new black

What’s the hot new colour, according to London fashion week? Anything you want, so long as it’s bright and bold. And the more you mix things up, the better

At first I thought London fashion week was going to be all about parma violet. “Did you know purple flowers attract the most bees?” Roland Mouret asked, as I stroked a low-backed silk blouse in pale, luminous lavender on a rail in his studio on the first day. Pantone had just announced Orchid Bloom as one of its key colours for 2022.

Then I changed my mind, and became convinced that apple green had it in the bag. Alice Temperley’s collection sold me on a halter-neck gown and a wrap dress, both in the bold mid-green, halfway between lime and emerald, that Americans call Kelly green and that reminds me of biting into a crisp granny smith. That sharp, outdoorsy green has been on the ascent in fashion for a while, beloved by label of the moment Bottega Veneta.

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Zahra Joya: the Afghan reporter who fled the Taliban – and kept telling the truth about women

As a child in Afghanistan, she pretended to be a boy in order to get an education, before starting her own women’s news agency. Now living in Britain, her fight continues

Just over a month ago, Zahra Joya left her house in Kabul to walk to her office, as she had been doing every day. From this small office, Joya, a journalist, ran Rukhshana Media, the news agency she founded last year to report on the stories of women and girls across Afghanistan. By the time she returned home in the afternoon, however, men with guns were on street corners and her sisters were shut inside their house, shaking with fear. In just a few hours, normal life had been obliterated.

“Right to the end, on that afternoon of 15 August, I couldn’t believe what was happening,” she says. “It was like a bad dream. Even on that day, it just seemed impossible that the Taliban could come to power so quickly, wipe away 20 years and drag us all back to the past.”

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Generation X are heavy, risky drinkers. Will anything ever persuade us to stop?

Alcohol’s allure was powerful when we were growing up and those born after us consume far less. Now booze is falling out of fashion, is it time to assess old habits?

My first job in journalism was editing a free magazine called Rasp. In 1995, we ran a competition for a year’s supply of Two Dogs lemon brew, the Australian alcopop. Two Dogs tried to send us 365 bottles, and I negotiated them up to 1,000, indignant that a bottle a day could constitute a “supply”. It is the only time I’ve ever played hardball. Nobody entered the competition because we didn’t have any readers, and nor did we have any staff. The two of us, me and the designer, drank the whole lot in the space of two months. A constant drip feed of 4.5% ABV, all day. If anybody asked – there was a much larger team upstairs running TNT, a freesheet for expat Australians – we’d say it was a British tradition, going back to medieval times, when workers would sip ale because of the contaminated water supply. “But medieval ale would have been more like 0.5%,” they might have protested, except they were also constantly drunk, and at lunchtime we’d all go to the pub, 60 people in crocodile formation marching down the street, like a misbegotten nursery outing.

So the cliche of the drunken journalist happens to be true, but in the early 90s it was also true of teachers. Dave Lawrence, 56, co-author of Scarred for Life, of which more shortly, remembers his teacher training: “There was a pub across the road and at lunchtime, all the teachers would head over there, and all afternoon they would reek of booze.” It wasn’t really sectoral – this was just generation X. Colin Angus, a senior research fellow in the Sheffield Alcohol Research Group, is 39. He’s not generation X, which is usually defined as those born between 1965 and 1980. But in his pre-academic career in electrical wholesaling, “Everyone was always talking about the good old days of long, boozy lunches.”

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Crash and burn: the intense and fleeting romances of the Covid era

The unspoken rules of dating went out the window as people found themselves deeply alone – perhaps it’s no surprise these couples didn’t make it

On 4 July 2020, 34-year-old Samantha Higdon, a tech worker in Austin, Texas, was swiping through the dating app Hinge when she came across a profile that made her thumb pause and hover over the screen.

His smile struck her as warm and somehow familiar: “He just felt right,” she says. And so it began.

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British ‘baby shortage’ could lead to economic decline, says thinktank

Social Market Foundation suggests measures including better childcare provision to increase birthrate

Britain is facing a “baby shortage” that could lead to “long-term economic stagnation”, a thinktank has said.

The Social Market Foundation (SMF) said the birthrate was almost half what it was at its postwar peak in the 1960s, and the country’s ageing population could lead to economic decline.

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Readers reply: why do humans cry when they are sad?

The long-running series in which readers answer other readers’ questions on subjects ranging from trivial flights of fancy to profound scientific and philosophical concepts

I understand that tears flush away foreign objects from the eye. But what advantage does crying have when one is feeling sad (or happy)? Perhaps it is to signal an extreme of emotion, but then why would a solitary sad person cry when there was no one around? David Dobbs

Send new questions to nq@theguardian.com.

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Food, faith and family: how we feed our son his rich mixed heritage

My parents are Bangladeshi Muslims. My husband is an Ashkenazi Jew. And our baby son? He’ll eat chicken soup and chicken curry…

Even before my son was born, I used to imagine all the things I would feed my future children. They would come home from school, backpacks hanging off their shoulders and tummies rumbling, and ask what was for dinner. I pictured them round-faced and cheerful, tucking into the same meals that I grew up with. I would heap their plates with hot white rice, garlicky dal garnished with coriander, and spicy fried fish. They would eat with their hands of course, like any well brought-up child of Bangladeshi origin, deftly picking out the tiny bones, and squeezing wedges of lime over the crispy fish skin, which they would save until last as a treat, licking the tangy juice off their fingers.

I already knew the satisfaction I would get from watching them eat; and knew too, the importance of warding off chok – the Evil Eye – by saying “Masha’Allah”, thanking God for their hearty appetites and chubby legs. I would teach them to say “Bismillah” before every meal and “Shukr alhamdulillah” when they finished, making sure they were aware of the gift of nourishment they had received.

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Legends of the fall: is autumn all it’s cracked up to be?

With its cosy socks, simmering hotpots and scary festivals, autumn is rich in tradition. But should we insist on fetishising a season of rain, fading light and tedious poetry?

Depending on your view, autumn has a bad rap, or an easy time of it. Overdue a renaissance or passé to even admit liking at all. As a child, I considered autumn the red-headed stepchild of the calendar. It was the end of summer. It was back to school. It was a period in which blue skies turned white and the sun started showing up less and less, like texts from a friend you’d made on holiday. Then, in a strange move, the government would surgically remove an entire hour of sunlight, presumably at the behest of whatever grisly nest of vampires came up with daylight savings time.

So far, so bad. But autumn was also a twilight time of change and spookiness, of crisp air, Halloween and substantially better television programmes. Sure, it’s the time of school uniforms, but it’s also the time of soup and candles and, again, much better television programmes.

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Seven simple steps to sounder sleep

How I overcome my chronic insomnia with science

Everything about our day impacts our sleep. How many minutes we spend outside, what and when we eat, what’s happening with our hormones, our habits, emotions, stress and thoughts – all this feeds into the sleep we end up with at night. All of which I was completely oblivious to when battling chronic insomnia for years on end.

Sleep anxiety can create a very real and vicious circle. I would spend hours lying in bed, increasingly wired, anxious and exhausted as time ticked by, with prescription sleeping pills within reach for those 3am nights when I had to be up first thing. The problem is that the more we worry about sleep, the higher our stress hormones go – and too much of the stress hormone cortisol, whatever the trigger, disturbs our sleep. We’re left in a state of fight or flight, when we need to be in the opposite state of rest and digest. When my insomnia was at its worst, I’d start my day exhausted, running on empty, and have recurring burn-out days, where an overwhelming fatigue would stop me in my tracks, forcing me to lie down and recharge.

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Dan Aykroyd: ‘I still have the lizard brain of a 20-year-old’

The actor, 69, talks about crying over his kids, not being able to cook and still having 80% of his dance moves

I am actually one of the few people on the planet who is a heterochromiac syndactylite. I have webbed middle toes on both feet. I also have different coloured eyes: one is brown, one is green. I don’t know how many of us there are: I heard seven.

I think I still have the lizard brain of a 20-year-old. I wake up every morning and I have the same vision, the same perception – except when I start to move. The lag between my perception of how young I feel and that mobility… There’s a lag there.

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