Archive for the ‘FASHION’ Category

“Growth for the sake of growth is the philosophy of the cancer cell.” – Edward Abbey “Anyone who believes exponential growth can go on forever in a finite world is either a madman or an economist.” – the late eminent economist Kenneth Boulding. “When Saquasohuh, the Blue Star Kachina dances in the plaza and removes his mask before the unintiated, […]


On hot summer weekend family car trips, my sister and I were boxed, strapped in and propped up like child dolls on the pearlized olive green, poly-damask hinterlands, Grand Canyonesque landscape aka the backseat of the family Cadillac Eldorado, as its cushioned mass thrust fast forward, gliding at 70 plus miles per hour on the […]


When I was about 6 my mother gave me a book called “Somebody Came.” Supposedly a gift from my Grandfather, who had passed away 4 years prior, I took it like a gift from beyond, as it was a lushly illustrated story of a little girl and her Grandfather, the keeper of a bright green […]


FACE-IT. Everyone is Tired. Stressed. Imperfect. Where is the new news? It’s Spring. If John and Yoko can wake up wide-eyed, prop themselves up in bed and announce a Love-In…so can you. Note to The Spring in You…I rarely roll out my laundry list but in the mode of celebrating it vs.complaining….my typical day’s schedule […]


Just off the gaggly tourist train of Fifth Avenue, chestnut roasting circuit and red-double decker glimpses of The Chelsea Hotel, do Audrey or Edie proud… …immersed in art, architecture, antiquing, style, luscious eating and relaxing and take in the full contrast treasure that is this American City. Surf the dichotomies that are Audrey in Breakfast […]


Age 6. Dear Japanese drag queens in rainbow-colored, over-the-knee suede boots in the Gay Pride Day parade…I was eye-level with the top of your swagger boots, mesmerized and vowing to grow up just like you. Age 16. Dear Leigh Bowery, You will always be one of my first Harujaku lovers. Your i-D magazine covers kept my […]


This is the City, and this is the music. Out of the little black boxes an unending river of romance in which the crocodiles weep. Henry Miller, Black Spring With the State of TV New Jersey opening up it’s trench coat and exposing itself as the real-life Fellini movie it always was, I thought more […]