We first saw them one February, scampering around the kitchen, venturing shyly into the living room, squeaking in the emerald-green Victorian couch. Big eyes. Big ears. They were like greeting-card mice, as adorable as Steiff toys. Nevertheless, they were mice, and they had to go. I got a big hatbox, cut a hole, added some Read More
We first saw them one February, scampering around the kitchen, venturing shyly into the living room, squeaking in the emerald-green Victorian couch. Big eyes. Big ears. They were like greeting-card mice, as adorable as Steiff toys.
Nevertheless, they were mice, and they had to go. I got a big hatbox, cut a hole, added some Read MoreWhen you live in a brownstone in the West Village not far from Christopher Street, you expect a certain amount of color. In my 18 or so years here, I have endured street-fair vendors beneath my window, setting up clanking aluminum poles at 6 a.m. and hawking fried dough; parades that twinkle until the wee Read More
When you live in a brownstone in the West Village not far from Christopher Street, you expect a certain amount of color. In my 18 or so years here, I have endured street-fair vendors beneath my window, setting up clanking aluminum poles at 6 a.m. and hawking fried dough; parades that twinkle until the wee Read More
I was having tea in a few days with the celebrated New York dandy Patrick McDonald. I was supposed to be working on my novel, but instead I was worrying, already a wreck about what to wear. We'd met once, at the Dandy Bohemian Salon I hosted to launch my new book, Bohemian Manifesto. Hairstylist-to-the-stars Read More
I have written the definitive guide to being a bombshell. I have deconstructed their entrances, exits, tantrums, fashions, body language. I have studied their hobbies, reading material, perfumes. I have watched How to Marry a Millionaire at least seven times, Promises! Promises! at least three. If I missed any details-if I didn't recall the brand Read More
