lost notice

photograph courtesy of the sartorialist-
fall/winter 2011

lost:
black rabit scarf.
reward:
a billiondy dollars.

slipped off somewhere on the upper east side;
i went back,
i searched,
retraced steps,
but alas.
gone forever.

it wasn't designer,
it wasn't expensive,
it wasn't even that luxurious.
but it was just what was wanted,
and it was me.

i want to be this guy

perhaps with less facial hair;
i already have the scarf though.

how does one become a creative director?
for carolina herrera no less.
or for that matter,
how does one become an artistic director?

it is something i've long wanted to pursue,
but often wondered how and where to begin.
it can be googled,
(i've searched),
which means there are others wondering the same.

perhaps i'll start trolling craigslist for "creative director" postings.

http://nymag.com/fashion/lookbook/71630/

i'm all for shop lifting...

...but it's not even cute.

really?

i understand the logic,
and a little bit of the math,
however,
the initial notion that new york has the most affordable rentals,
is kind of laughable.

though,
when the ratio is renting compared to buying,
it suddenly makes slightly more sense.
doesn't it?
or does it?

http://trulia.movity.com/rentvsbuy/
http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2011/01/new_york_is_a_bright_red_beaco.html?f=most-commented-intel-7d5

two teaspoons of good vanilla

enjoying all the falling snow,
snow days included.

late-late breakfast menu:
honey-covered yogurt,
huge earl grey tea,
luscious pear,
tangerine.

to my delight,
ina garten was my snowed-in houseguest,
and a terrific breakfast companion.
perfect start to a lazy white-out kind of a day.

how easy was that?

bon annee 2011

i saw an old friend the night before new year's eve.
last we saw each other was at the same time two years ago;
he was visiting the city for just a couple of days,
so getting together was mandatory.

it was a great night.
we wound up at bell book and candle.
(more on that later.)
he and i had drinks and laughs and swapped stories and joked,
talked about when we both lived in boston and future plans.
seemed like old times.

in his text to me on new year's eve day,
after his thanks,
he said:
this is the year for you.

hope he's right.

new year,
new me.
same shit.
nevertheless,
here's hoping for an eventful 2011.