“Don’t look yet,” said the stylist, holding something near the model’s blouse. “I’m doing the ice cube trick.” I sat in the corner of the photo studio, pretending to blend…
It began on a rainy Sunday afternoon with an ancient photo album. I had returned home to Connecticut for the weekend to “help” my parents clean out their basement. In…
The text had arrived precisely at 11:17 AM on a Sunday morning: EMERGENCY. GET TO CAFE LEON NOW. From my friend Mia. Who almost never texts in all caps, and…
She was quietly rich. Not hip new-money rich, popped-collar Balenciaga hoodie kind of rich. Old rich. Sofa upholstery-that-matchsa-million-dollar-view rich. The cashmere jumper draped over her shoulders wasn’t screaming wealth. There…
Allow me to preface this story with my deeply ingrained skepticism of any fashion formula described as “foolproof.” Between 27 years of life and 15 years of working in fashion,…
Before we begin: Hear me out. I like black clothes. But not all the time; I’m not wearing Head-to-Toe黑 today to plead my case; I’m wearing slouchy grey jeans and…
Welcome to Chaos Glamour, the death of Rich Mum, and the joyful orgy of colour, pattern, and personality that is taking her place. Let’s talk about beige. For the last…
I was 11 years old when I saw it. June 1994, lying on the couch of my parents’ vacantly flipping through channels. Just a lazy Sunday ruined by too much…
I first spotted them last summer, on my annual trip to the Hamptons. (Fun fact: I don’t own a home in the Hamptons! God, I wish. What I do is…
If you’ve spent your entire adult life working in fashion, like me, you’d assume I’d have it all figured out by now. That I had a developed sense of style;…