Julia Child Didn't Ask Permission. Neither Should You.
Hunger isn't a flaw. Pleasure isn't guilty. Shrinking was never the assignment.
→ Read the full essay on PROVOKED
Editor’s Note: Off-Script—the why, what, and oh sh*t moments behind this article.
Julia Child influenced me before influencers were “a thing.”
I watched that towering woman bang pans, drop food, laugh too loud, and casually toss in another stick of butter like she was topping up her coffee. She didn’t float through the kitchen like a delicate princess. She stomped through it like she owned the damn castle.
So when Abby pitched a piece about Julia? No hesitation on my part.
I love cooking. I loved Julia then, and I still love her now. But somewhere between “this will be funny” and “final draft,” Abby did what she does best—she followed the thread all the way down.
What started as jokes about influencers turned into something much sharper: an ode to a woman who refused to make herself small in a world that demands women do exactly that.
She writes Julia like a cultural disruptor, someone who refused to apologize for every indulgence and tone it all down before anyone got uncomfortable.
Our readers felt it immediately.
“I remember watching her when I was MUCH younger. I will never forget her booming voice. She was so full of life and joy! Give me ALL the bread and butter!”
“Hooray! It’s nice to hear someone push back against the thinness war of low cal, low fat, and factually low pleasure. Child was an icon and we’re lucky to have had her in our lives. Thank you for reminding us what a wonderful women’s warrior she is.”
“Thank you so much for this! I’ve been channeling Saint Julia for the last 30 years! It’s so nice to see someone put the ‘why’ into words.”
Because Julia didn’t just teach us to cook.
She showed us how to live like we mean it.
And always—always—use the good butter.