Something is stirring in the depths of the Fashion Jungle. It’s me. I’m stirring a little cup of tea while contemplating, in a quivering state of shock, an occurrence that is nothing short of a miracle. No, I’m not talking about 51-year-old Annie Leibovitz’s turkey-baster fecundity. It’s something far more shocking and revolutionary: I’m talking Read More
No one ever thought of
Gerard Manley Hopkins as being a with-it kind of guy. Emily Dickinson wrote her
poems in a little room on a quiet street in the quiet town of Amherst, Mass.
The only Internet code one might
have detected streaming through the room came from the energy of her mind
musing Read More
I don’t wear makeup.
Not in that sexy, Julianne-Moore-profiled-in- Jane kind of way, where she arrives at a
coffee shop with a naked face and it’s a testament to her cornfed beauty and
earthy self-confidence. Nope. With me, it’s just that I’m lazy and frankly a
little scared of the stuff.
Which goes a Read More
When Gus Christensen was an undergraduate at Yale in the early 90′s, his gut was so big that his friends gave it a name: Kuato, after the mutant head that grew out of a character’s torso in the Arnold Schwarzenegger film Total Recall .
Mr. Christensen’s waistband only widened after he graduated from school and Read More
Ladies who lunch a little too often-the size-16 smart
set-are enjoying a fashion revolution these days. They have their own Italian
designers, like Gianfranco Ferré and Marina Rinaldi. They have their own floor
at Saks Fifth Avenue and their own fashion magazine , Mode . They even have their own fashion shows: Lane Bryant hosted Read More
My New Year’s Resolutions: Be Vapid, Exfoliate, Flirt
You’re nothing but a self-flagellant and a Puritan. Just look at your New Year’s Resolutions: a mind-numbing litany of self-denial, invariably revolving around unriveting issues like gym attendance, punctuality and fat intake. This annual attempt at asceticism is a hangover from another period in your life. Don’t Read More
Fleshy, fashionable New Yorkers are seething.
Stylish plus-size girls, like biographer Meredith Etherington-Smith, are royally pissed off because they can’t find anything hip to wear. “Plus-size stores are a waistless land–a ghetto of boxy clothes in horrid prints and cheap fabrics. You come out looking like you’re wearing a pup tent.”
“If it wasn’t Read More
I have always clung to the belief that “shrimping,” i.e., toe-sucking, though not the most revoltingly incomprehensible sexual aberration known to man, is still pretty gnarly. Feet should be tended and soothed–not slobbered over.
Then, last week, I went to Rescue, and now I find I am more than ready to revise my opinion. Improbably Read More
My mum was born in northern Ireland in 1918 (the year that British women over 30 got the vote) with a fantastic set of genes. Her mother made hats with birds and fruit on them. Her dad assisted a local interior decorator; Guinness and off-track betting were his hobbies. From her parents she inherited creativity, Read More
It was pouring, and two pretty young Brazilian women in furs stepped forward eagerly as we alighted from our cab under the awning of L’Actuel. They jumped in, unaware that the driver, an Indian on his first night on the job, knew Manhattan even less than they did. Only a minute or two earlier, in Read More
