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CB's Love Lagoon: June 2026

  As June draws to a close, I’m here to bring you my monthly dispatch of recommendations, round up, and reflections. June brought a hallowed breath of life to the beginning of Summer, my first ever successful magazine submission, and lots of sunshine. I set up this blog, wrote a grand total of 9 (nine!) articles, researched like I was Hamilton trying to finish the Federalist Papers, read too much Vogue and not enough Sartre, drank too many Pandan lattes.  And so, here are the picks that earned a spot on a Lilypad in my Love Lagoon this month: 1. Monte Carlo A classic from my childhood I rewatched in protest of the men in my life’s eternal droning on the Monaco Grand Prix earlier this month. This film is the reason Hotel Paris is on my life bucket list (though the chances of running into a rich doppleganger I can kidnap are pretty slim, so I guess I’ll have to fund it myself). 2. Andre Leon Talley’s The Chiffon Trenches I really loved this book. An insight into the bare teeth o...

Meet Me on the Dance Floor: Madonna Sent to Save Once Again

Ahead of Friday’s release of Confessions II, follow up to the seminal Confessions on a Dance Floor and fifteenth album release , Cece Blythe takes a look back at Madonna’s disco revolution—21 years on. It’s 2005. YouTube had barely taken its first breath. Tom Cruise was the messiah of Scientology. Brangelina was born. The world was barren of energy, trapped in the post 9/11-G.W. Bush dictatorial apocalypse. God saw our despair, saw how we thirsted for a saviour. And so, She deployed Madonna to resuscitate. Disco was the prayer, and Confessions on a Dance Floor was the angel. Following the relative flop of her 2000 album American Life, a politicised response to Bush’s war-mongering foreign policy, Madonna was in need of yet another epic reinvention, in a battle to regain the public’s favor. Whilst nurturing two side projects—“ Hello Suckers” , a film about 1920s nightclub hostess, Texas Guinan, (for which Madonna was writing the music, which later became Hard Candy), and a Candy Darl...

The Truth about Babydoll-Gate

Cece Blythe reflects on the internet's war on chiffon, the true motive behind the Olivia Rodrigo discourse, and the myth of "infantalisation". Credit - Spotify The young ingĂ©nue takes to the stage. Lights come up. Crowd stirs in tizzied anticipation. Bass booms. Onto the stage she struts, ready to transport her crowd to the wonderland of her brand new album. A spotlight draws full attention to the starlet, in all her punk glory, and there she stands…in a babydoll dress?  The outrage would be unimaginable. How dare she flounce around the stage, bare legged, infantilised, begging for the world to stare at her body. “Look at me, sexualise me.” it says. And then, it didn’t matter about the music at all. All that mattered was the crowd, and the dress. The year was 1991, and a young Courtney Love centred the stage, as Hole warmed up the crowd for Mudhoney. Fifteen years on, things remain the same: another war-mongering President sits in the Oval Office, another new technologica...