English Version | Editor's Letter: The Escape Issue, July-August 2025

Champagne Problems

As of the closing date of this issue, the world is burning — inside and out. These are times of long shadows, of fears hanging in the air like dust that won't settle. Chaos has gone from being the headline to becoming the backdrop. 

Brooke Candy
Carlos Duro

We live in times of uncertainty and global fear, times that sometimes make leaving the house seem like an act of courage. Every time we scroll through our phones, another piece of news pulls us down. And yet, amidst the sirens and statistics, there are those who cry because their dress arrived in the wrong shade. There are those who debate for days about rearranging their bookshelves by color. There are those who can’t sleep because of the existential dilemma of choosing between Amalfi and Santorini for their vacation. These are the so-called champagne problems — first-world problems, for those who have the privilege of worrying about nothing. Futile, useless, almost obscene problems. But before we judge them harshly, perhaps we should ask ourselves: what if it’s precisely these problems that keep us afloat? It’s not insensitivity. It’s survival.

Amy Taylor
Jamie Nelson

In chaotic times, escape is not a luxury — it’s a necessity. Dreaming about shoes, TV shows, or desserts is as much a human right as feeling afraid. The mascara you smudge in a meeting may seem ridiculous in the face of a planet on fire, but perhaps it’s that painted tear that keeps you from crying about everything else. We need frivolities like people need air. Small rituals of normality, microscopic joys, desires without consequences. Things that come from living on the surface. But perhaps, just perhaps, it’s that surface that keeps us from drowning. They’re what remind us that we’re still alive, that there’s still room to laugh. It’s not about ignoring the world, but about finding intervals of lightness within it. During World War II, women, even in scenarios of destruction and deprivation, would draw a line on the back of their legs to simulate the seams of the nylon tights they no longer had access to. Recently, the editor of a women's website, from a city at war and under bombing, complained that despite his efforts to continue publishing news articles about the state of the country and deeper topics, he had discovered that the most sought-after topic on the same website was beauty articles, especially nail art.

Alana Champion
Kate Biel

Champagne problems are not an insult to other people’s pain — they are a reminder that even on the darkest days, there is room for brightness. That we can face the shadows and still do our nails.

And yes, there are those who suffer because they don’t have enough to eat, and there are those who suffer because the champagne wasn’t cold enough. It’s not fair, it’s not symmetrical, but it’s real. And we all carry pain, visible or not. It’s not about indifference. It’s perhaps the most delicate form of resistance: continuing to dream in a world in ruins. Choosing a lipstick. Booking a table. Dancing alone in the kitchen while the world outside falls apart. Because that’s also what it means to be human — to seek beauty even in the midst of the rubble. 

Kim Decker
Alina Gross

If the world is on fire, let’s at least toast with anything that shines in the glass. Let’s allow ourselves to be frivolous between one sigh and the next. Because sometimes, it’s in the most useless gesture that the last thread of hope lies.

Translated from the original in Summertime Daydream issue, published July 2025. For full credits and stories, please refer to the print issue.