EMILY SUNDBERG
Writer
The writer of the cult Substack newsletter "Feed Me" is the millennial Carrie Bradshaw—but instead of writing about sex, she writes about money—and how a certain set of New Yorkers is getting and spending it.
NAME AN INFLUENCE OF YOURS THAT MIGHT SURPRISE PEOPLE. I think I was really onto something in 2021 when I wrote my story about the cultural dairy renaissance. The headline was “Hot girls are drinking whole milk,” and the gist was that everyone from baristas to cheesemongers were feeling an abandonment of alternative milk. Fast-forward to now—the raw milk, the cottage cheese, the colostrum—and it’s like, duh.
WHAT QUESTION DO YOU ASK YOURSELF MOST OFTEN WHILE YOU’RE MAKING WORK? Did I buy a new bag of coffee yesterday?
WHAT DO YOU WANT NEXT FOR YOURSELF ABOVE ALL ELSE? An uninterrupted mojito with the correct lime-to-mint ratio. High “open” rates. Unlimited towels for every shower I take. The strength to politely decline, instead of last-minute canceling with four apologies. A vaccine for writer’s block. Privacy!
“"I still often think about what goes on behind the closed doors of my neighbors, and how many people I know go home on first dates to strange apartments."”
IF YOU COULD ATTRIBUTE YOUR SUCCESS TO A SINGLE QUALITY, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Vigilance.
WHAT’S COMING UP FOR YOU IN 2025? I’m making a podcast about young men in America. There was a point in late 2023 when media was obsessed with the idea of girlhood—the Prada bows, the Barbie movie, and a deep nostalgia for a specific kind of innocent, pink femininity. I didn’t relate to it. But more importantly, I didn’t see men having similar conversations of what it meant to be a boy in America. My questions about Gen Z men multiplied during the election last year, and I ended up calling about 30 of my college-aged readers to start researching their experiences. I think it will be an empathy-building project, or at the least entertaining.
WHAT’S ONE BOOK, WORK OF ART, OR FILM THAT GOT YOU THROUGH AN IMPORTANT MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE? I watched both versions of Michael Haneke’s Funny Games during Covid. I was living with an ex in Beverly Hills and I didn’t know any of my neighbors. The mundanity of how the film takes form (a vacationing couple gets held hostage by summertime neighbors) stuck with me while going on walks or falling asleep at night, and inspired some of the original short fiction stories I wrote on Substack in 2020. I still often think about what goes on behind the closed doors of my neighbors, and how many people I know go home on first dates to strange apartments.
in your life?
