Give me that jar or give me death! (Just don’t give me both.)
The last time I mentioned peanut butter syndrome, I eschewed its power to boast about the gumption, conviction and rigor with which I wear double-breasted blazers. This skirt over pants trip I'm on, though, which …see more
The coat I can’t seem to kick
I go through these phases that my friend Rosie calls peanut butter syndrome: I love a garment so much that I refuse to take it off until I can't look at it anymore. She calls …see more
And it is fashion’s fault
There is something distinctly phony about wearing a pair of shoes named after a man whose name you have heretofore never heard. And frankly, if it weren't for my mother, who has been unapologetically wearing …see more
…is back! By no demand at all.
Two things. The first: I'm beginning to wonder how necessary these bi-annual Fashion Week outfit recaps are becoming. I know in previous seasons you've asked for them and as a result, I have delivered, but I …see more
We are no longer happy. Last week, though, we were.
You know how I know I am living a dismal existence at the hand of a city I have spent my life defending but am now beginning to question rather solemnly? Because last Monday, when …see more
You know the one, she wears mini skirts and boots
Have you ever been walking down the street, or sitting at a coffee shop, or standing at a platform, waiting for any form of mass transit to collect you when suddenly, she walks by? In one …see more
Art and life are at it again, playing the imitation game.
I knew I was subsisting in the right cosmos the minute that "copy paste" became a metaphor for fornication (Metaphornication?). Fran Lebowitz famously said, "If people don't want to hear from you, what makes you think …see more
Guess what? For once, it doesn’t include shopping
I had an epiphany when I was in Paris last week. I was there for a quick four-day, work related stint and as such, I packed the smallest carry-on suitcase known to mankind. Marcel the …see more