This season, I’ve decided to pack really lightly–forgoing even a toothbrush or underwear in the name of good books and a clutch so small it can barely hold a euro bill. Such is the price, though, one must pay to look unhygenically fAsHUn.
Now, reader poll: say geiwgdabdjjdhahdbhaaianhdalakaka! if you’re interested in a monthly (or less/more frequent) book suggestion care of Team MR?
(Photographed here: Fraud by David Rakoff, I Feel Nothing by Nora Ephron and a Tonya Hawke clutch).