Lately a lot of what I’ve been doing is driving around in the psychedelic late fall splendor of upstate New York thinking about Lily Allen’s song about discovering her ex’s purported sex toys in a Duane Reade bag.

It’s one of the most tabloidy details in Ms. Allen’s breakup record, “West End Girl.” Many have speculated that the lyrics on the album refer to her former partner, the actor David Harbour, although she has said in interviews that the songs on “West End Girl” blend truth and fiction.

But even if that discovery didn’t happen in real life, to me and my friends, all now in our 40s, like Ms. Allen, the Duane Reade bag has become a kind of totem, a symbol of the lesson we’ve taken from this record: Vivid, raw, defiant honesty is the only way to deal with the often comical indignities of early middle age.

“West End Girl” came out at the end of October, in time for fans to dress up as the Duane Reade bag for Halloween. Ms. Allen herself went as the titular character of Ludwig Bemelmans’s children’s book “Madeline,” a nod to a song on the album that includes texts the narrator exchanges with her husband’s mistress, pseudonym “Madeline.”

Since then, Ms. Allen has been in the throes of a kind of promotional tour of her own indomitable 40-year-old hotness: She appeared, new breasts prominently on display, in a Colleen Allen bralette and skirt at the CFDA awards, and in a vintage see-through John Galliano for Dior dress at the premiere of the stage version of “The Hunger Games” in London.

And she’s ridden the Madeline mentions for all they’re worth. Even her Thanksgiving weekend, spent here in New York with Lena Dunham, included a Madeline reference, this time via an Instagrammed tray of actual madeleines from the Midtown bistro Benoit. It was Proustian catnip for the fans scrolling at home, who’ve been breathlessly chronicling every one of Ms. Allen’s theatrical moves since “West End Girl” was released.

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