Arguably, no mode of writing has influenced the past decade of novels more than autofiction, a catchall term for books that call themselves fiction while claiming to be rooted, in some way, in their authors’ real lives. Amid this boom, critics and readers alike have shown a certain anxiety over how based in fact a novel can be—and how anyone might know, given that no autofiction writer purports to be telling the complete, unadulterated truth. Is reality identifiable on the page? Is it ferret-out-able? Is it relevant?

BEIJING-BORN Savi of @savislook’s home was first featured here in our piece on the Camaleonda Sofa by Mario Bellini. The Weibo and YouTube influencer often gives glimpses of her home on her Instagram page and its filled with old-school vibes: 50s farmhouse meets mid-century modern with a nod to the 70s by way of an orange striped shag rug …

We turn to the Internet for answers. We want to connect, or understand, or simply appreciate something—even if it’s only Joe Rogan. It’s a fraught pursuit. As the Web keeps expanding faster and faster, it’s become saturated with lies and errors and loathsome ideas. It’s a Pacific Ocean that washes up skeevy wonders from its Great Garbage Patch. We long for a respite, a cove where simple rules are inscribed in the sand.

Albanian-born Ilirida Krasniqi is a dentist by day, and a style influencer when work is over. Based in Copenhagen, she has already caught the eye of Vogue Paris one to follow for her ability to capture the energy of the moment. We love her decidedly lady-like style: high-waisted trousers with crisp white shirts, belted trenches and tweed blazers, mules and kitten heels and strappy sandals…

The Tribune Tower rises above the streets of downtown Chicago in a majestic snarl of Gothic spires and flying buttresses that were designed to exude power and prestige. When plans for the building were announced in 1922, Colonel Robert R. McCormick, the longtime owner of the Chicago Tribune, said he wanted to erect “the world’s most beautiful office building” for his beloved newspaper. The best architects of the era were invited to submit designs; lofty quotes about the Fourth Estate were selected to adorn the lobby.

I SEEM TO HAVE become fond of Esty once again, after not really finding anything there for years, and then, all of a sudden, ordering handmade soaps and avocado oil face creams, art and photo frames and even gold jewellery. There is also a soft hand-knit mohair sweater from Greece currently in my cart, as well as a beautiful wicker chandelier, and a small oil painting …

In every job he has ever had, Gavin has shirked. When he worked in a call centre, he would mute the phone, rather than answer it. When he worked in a pub, he would sneak out of the building and go to another pub nearby, for a pint. His best-ever job was as a civil servant. He would take an hour for breakfast, and two for lunch. No one ever said anything. All his colleagues were at it, too.

YES, WE KNOW, it’s only been officially autumn for a month, but with the nights drawing in so quickly now, the bright yellow leaves falling off the trees, the wet gloomy skies, and British Summer Time ending at the end of the month, we’re already dreaming of sunnier times and warmer days. If the dark days of autumn and the dreary days of winter must be tolerated, then we’ll do it with cosy evenings fireside, and also through plenty of daydreaming. These images, that came floating through our feed this week, of places around Mallorca are a perfect place to start …

In September, The Wall Street Journal published a report, based on leaked documents, describing Facebook’s awareness of the harmful effects one of its platforms was having on young people. “Thirty-two percent of teen girls said that when they felt bad about their bodies, Instagram made them feel worse,” the company’s internal research revealed. “Comparisons on Instagram can change how young women view and describe themselves.” Here, though, is another finding: Many of the same young people who spoke of Instagram’s degradations kept returning to the service anyway. It’s where their friends are. It’s where they’re expected to be seen. Instagram, in that way, is both a choice and not a choice at all—a trap saturated in the language of easy freedoms: Post, comment, like.