Well, let me cheat and start with someone who is only available for meals in the afterlife: film critic Pauline Kael. Kael is, more than any other writer in my brief relationship with literature, the writer who made me want to write. She loved the pulp and poetry of movies. Her dishy style and feminine sensibility is something I have tried to replicate constantly through my work. Also? She had impeccable taste. Her essay, “Trash, Art and the Movies,” where she slagged on The Graduate but glorified crude pop changed the entire way I related to movies. Well, to continue cheating, I'd need novelist Graham Greene there so I could have his slightly jaundiced but universally correct opinion on EVERYTHING. Okay, speaking of dry Brits in tweed jackets, advertising dynamo David Ogilvy would have to be there too cause he’s simply too droll and pithy to not be included at my brunch.
So if we would be talking about movies the whole time, which is really what I enjoy the most, Quentin Tarantino would have to be there too. I watch Tarantino movies and think, "Well thank God I got rejected from art school," because I would have come out just trying to make the kind of movies Tarantino does but would never even come close to his brilliance. He also seems chatty and enthusiastic about everything he does. WHAT MAKES A BETTER BRUNCH DATE THAN THAT, I ASK YOU?
I would also demand the presence of Lady Gaga because I need proof that she is mortal because right now she looms like a pop-goddess to me. Speaking of immortals, the next would be Jon Hamm because beyond just being an absolute aesthetic feast (read: IMPOSSIBLY HANDSOME), he also seems to be a master of his craft. I guess that's what these people have in common, for me -- they are the best at what they do. What a scrumptious brunch.
Natasha is the Los Angeles correspondent for The Awl. Her book, Mad Men Footnotes, will be released by Harper's Studio later this year.