In the water cycle1 of waistlines, my adult lifetime has been nearly pure precipitation - waistlines have fallen as low as they can go, with the uniform of a low-rise jean and a loose belt to match. And yet, in these humid months of summer, I’ve been feeling the pull of evaporation - there’s a bit of condensation in the air, gathering around a dawning horizon of skinny jeans (to the chagrin of some) and the small of the waist. Vogue said it first: the waist is back. This being said, snatching the waist doesn’t need to mean you’re suffocating to the point of an imprint on your stomach by the end of the day. For me, a statement belt over a men’s button down or a flowy babydoll is a proportional dream. My newest, this utility Rosie Assoulin x Target belt, will not only shrink my waistline into thin air but could take me directly into a cloud-born mountain hike. Leave your belt loops behind and get cinching.

We’ve talked sports, we’ve BEEN talking capris, it feels only so right that we talk about the resurgence of 90’s activewear. Despite my notorious eagerness to go elbow-deep in a bargain bin of vintage, secondhand activewear was my bar for a long time as both a resale lover AND hypochondriac. The sweat of a stranger seeping into my own sweat felt….disgusting? And yet, the power of style still seemed to prevail over the Set Actives and Forms and Gymsharks and Alos. So you can imagine that the downfall of constrictive matching sets along with the return of exercise gauchos, et al. has been music to my ears, or rather, to my abdomen. Gumi & Rummage Stretch are two of my current cool-girl favorites, and their marriage in the form of this perfect tank seems kismet. ‘Til death do they part! Cheers to the reformer!

After a chunk of July well spent at the lake in New Hampshire, by the pool in the burbs, and on the sand in Nantasket Beach, I’d like to think I have the early makings of a tan (it’s a sunburn). When you’re as ghostly as a sheet of paper like me, even a little bit of color in the cheeks can elevate me from “Is she sick?” to “No comment”. I’m a loyal, seasonless user of rhode’s hero glazing milk, but this summer I’ve graduated to their new highlight milk for a top layer that really glitters and glows. Next time you see me, hopefully you’ll say “She’s radiant!”, though I’d also accept “She looks completely unremarkable!”

I was raised in a Boston household. Season tickets at Fenway, near-annual victory parades during the Brady/Belichick dynasty, Sweet Caroline, my dad with a game on during every season on every day that ends in Y.

Am I a particularly passionate sports fan? When I was a kid, another year playing basketball didn’t mean a renewed love of the game; rather it meant a new pair of shoes. My favorite were some purple sparkly high-tops around 2008. If my soccer team lost, or if I was the last to the wall in a swim meet, it was forgotten with a shrug and an orange slice.

Though I have a long history of enjoying a helmet soft serve on a summer day at the ballpark, indifference remains supreme. I was not being mobbed at the Knicks parade, I would never shell out thousands for a World Cup seat, I’m not checking a score, there is no SportsCenter app on my phone.

A group of my friends ran a regular Dancing With the Stars weekly watch party last fall (to be revived very soon). Getting together on a weeknight, applauding and yelling at the TV, sharing sips and bites and a little gossip on commercial breaks is a dopamine bomb.

So as much as I’m noncompetitive, and deeply unathletic, I am absolutely loving the tidal wave of sports-based socialites born out from this summer’s events. Between the Knicks run and the World Cup, a magnetic pull of that energy has brought me this month to many a beautiful summer evening in a sports bar or on a random side street in the Lower East Side through the NBA Finals; discovering a pub on my own block I walked past a hundred times to root for Brazil; even giggling at the reels of the Tartan Army flooding the streets of my home city.

Letting sports ride this June for a warm, bright sliver of collective effervescence during a relatively dark smudge on the timeline.

Love that dirty water!

I’m embracing my inner chill girl this summer. Watching basketball? Totally bro. Two ice creams in a day? Dreamy. Taking a walk with no destination? Let’s get lost. Ignoring looming existentialism like what will I do with the rest of my life? That’s none of my business. Fighting all of my Type A deferences to be where my feet are, soak in the sunshine and match the energy of the city. Thank goodness some of my favorite trends reflect as such - wearing board shorts to surf nothing but the concrete ocean is everything to me. Honorable mentions to freed toes, crochet caps, and the lesser known yet equally cool board pants.

This past week thanks to some particularly generous benefactors (my roommate and her mom for hosting me at their lovely home in CT; my cousin for the baseball tickets; my big for her foodie expertise) I’ve been eating like there’s no tomorrow. My stomach and wallet have decided to expand thanks to a bit of sunshine and I’m completely unshackled to dine to my heart’s content. Tried lots of new sips and snacks last week:

Black sesame matcha from Soft Swerve - don’t get me started on all these mother****ers who have just discovered frozen yogurt for the first time. Real ones were at the Truly’s in Wellesley, Massachusetts through a pipeline straight to Tasti D Lite1. But for something new, loved the funky flavors of this soft serve fix without a 45-minute rage bait wait.

Niçoise salad - A special treat: potatoes, olives, tomatoes, green beans, onions, homemade tuna steak and a drinkable vinaigrette. The type of dish that makes me feel like a real adult because I used to scoff at that order on the Nordstrom bistro menu as a kid.

Pimms Cup - I’m not a big drinker, but when my British pal insisted upon a Pimms cup I had to oblige a sipski for the whole of England.

Suero - Discovered at Time Again (one of my fave spots for a bev and card game combo), this “Mexican gatorade” of mineral water, lime and a salt rim quenched my parched throat after yapping for hours. Certain repeat order for this summer.

Banchan from Sunns - This array of Korean small plates was a perfect spread of savory delights as a vehicle for gossip with the gals. Highlights included creamy potato and pear salad, marinated tofu and eggplant, kimchi and a spicy tuna special.

Barefoot Contessa Potato Salad - speaking of potato salad, my personal contribution to the MDW BBQ. A favorite from my mom’s recipe book, soft potatoes meet a lemony dressing without any mayo to make for a light accoutrement to the steak and sausages of the day.

Old Bay fries - speaking of potatoes, I crossed into enemy territory as a Bostonian at Yankee Stadium. I did wear a Patriots hat and get cussed at. I was asking for it. Regardless, a glorious summer evening, and a heaping pile of seasoned fries was the cherry on top.

Lemony Lemon cake from By the Way Bakery - Somehow this cake surpasses the barrier of my 19382910 allergies and is probably the best lemon cake I’ve ever had. It’s the lemon curd of it all. Have you ever curd of this bakery? I instantly regret that joke.

If you want to go out for a treat, message me! I love potatoes, sugar and stimulating conversation. Bonus points if you feel like paying.

Last Saturday, I had the special privilege of a birthday speedrun: three birthday parties, back to back, for three dear friends. It was a warm May day in New York City, and to hop from wine bar garden to rooftop to patio was the perfect way to waste away. I’m sure your first question, beg the usual “How old are they turning?” or “Was there cake?” was “Jane, what did you wear for this marathon?” Given the weather and the occasion, it was the perfect moment for my new wedges. New may categorize this exact pair, but true newness would be a boldfaced lie, as I wore an exact replica of these shoes to my 8th grade semiformal dance.1 Now you might be saying - what may have gone so wrong that you re-purchased a pair of shoes you owned thirteen years ago (inadvertent age reveal)? You subscribe here because either 1.) you’ve put your trust in my instincts of trend or 2.) you’re my mom. Trust me on this one, city gals - the flip flop heels of today will pave the espadrille platform wedges2 of tomorrow.

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My best friends of 20 years! This dress was from Delia’s iykyk.

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Where’s Waldo my wedges of today paired with another of my former trend predictions, the trusty capri pant (see: 2023).

Happy Met Monday - er, should I say, The Met is Dead now that it’s Sponsored by Bezos Monday? Or perhaps Beyonce’s Triumphant Return to The Met Gala Monday? Mixed Bag of Emotions Met Monday? As always, I’ll be tuned in, regardless of the tragic downfalls of sellout capitalistic greed, yada yada yada.

In preparation, I of course went to see The Devil Wears Prada 2 over the weekend. It was exactly what you would expect when watching a sequel 20 years post-partum and post-introduction of smartphones and AI and botox and Tik Tok Shop and the death of print (yes, there are Miranda Priestly memes, which gave me a unique meta ick).

If you look past how sad and antisocial 2026 is compared to the New York City of the 2006 original, and if you look past the hard to swallow dialogue, you will thoroughly enjoy the real diamonds of the Devil Wears Prada: Meryl Streep, and the wardrobe. More specifically, Meryl Streep in the wardrobe. The Runway closet is bigger and better, and the iconic Chanel boots from yesteryear are closely rivaled by Streep in a custom Balenciaga red ballgown, Emily Blunt in stunning Dior after Dior, and sleeper looks from thrift icon Helen J. Shen as Andy’s Gen-Z assistant. My favorite? This incredible tassel jacket from Dries Van Noten, pushing Wintour’s - I mean Miranda’s - whimsy to the limits without straying too far off course.

Readers, I apologize for my quiet absence, but I’ve been in Europe for the last few weeks! While in Europe, I ate my body weight in pastries, walked a thousand miles a la Vanessa Carlson, and shopped a staggering amount of vintage, as I’ve now learned one does whilst they are - you guessed it - in Europe. Did I mention I went on a European vacation?

I’ll spare you the endless details, my fellow materialists, as I know what you really want - a haul according to my esteemed influence. My favorite things from Denmark and England below!

• Hotel Kong Arthur - the highest concentration of friendly people I’ve ever met working at a single establishment. Also a simply beautiful, modern space with a spectacular daily Danish breakfast spread.

• A Bermuda Triangle: Second Wardrobe, Hello Good Buy, and Chamoi - the vintage shopping in Copenhagen cannot be underscored enough. Walking over the bridge to Nørrebro was the single highest concentration of vintage and secondhand shopping I’ve ever seen in my life. It was like the yellow brick road. When I die I can only assume I’ll reincarnate on that block. Start off with a snack at Kaf and spend every moment of daylight here like I did.

• Naturfrisk Ginger Ale - as a generally nauseous person I drink a higher than average amount of ginger ale. This was this best one I’ve ever had. Sweet but not sugary, gingery spice on the swallow, perfection. A close second on the ginger podium was the homemade wellness shot at Ø.12.

• This sculpture series at the Copenhagen Contemporary art museum

• La Banchina - part seafood restaurant, part contrast therapy, we enjoyed a lovely afternoon of tea, snacks, and a positively picturesque sauna with a canal view complimented by a polar plunge in said canal. A unique experience that can’t be missed.

• h.u.g bageri - Denmark’s Bub’s Bakery (iykyk). Could eat here every day. Wouldn’t be a CPH roundup without a pastry gold medal. Honorable mention for the seabuckthorn pie at Lille.

• Ganni Postmodern - Ganni outlet, obviously. Why do you think I chose Denmark?

• Vækst - Down a back alley in the Latin quarter lies this incredible Nordic restaurant, with a progressive menu focused around local herbs and vegetables. One of the best meals of my life. Highlights included yellow beets with crispy buckwheat and horseradish sauce, cured scallops with cucumber and gooseberries, cod with a shrimp beurre blanc, and an unreal mushroom broth amuse bouche.

• Studio Arhoj - glass blowing and ceramics live studio. Watched the artists live molding a vase I then bought.

• House black daal at Dishoom - the entire dining experience is elite, but their daal simmers for 24+ hours. Licked the bowl clean.

• Changing of the guards at Buckingham palace. Just cool. The hats are everything.

• Tease - certainly could have been in NYC but their date sea salt matcha hit the spot!

• Notting Hill - It wasn’t Nørrebro, but it had plentiful vintage and was as cute as a postage stamp. Kuro Bakery, Portobello Road Market and Granger & Co brunch made for a perfect sunny day.

• Kudu - My first time trying South African food, and definitely not my last. Notable bites included their Cape May seasoning, smoky Braii, and the Kudu “Kit-Kat” (a cloud of marshmallow is charred tableside with a hot coal).

• Ravens - I’m no ornithologist but how in the world do the ravens in London have the same behavior as New York City pigeons? The ravens guarding the fences at the Tower of London are undoubtedly the souls of kings past. Ominous and obsessed.

• Hay House and The Conran Shop - multi-city mentions for two really fabulous homewares shops. When my renter phase ends one faraway day, I’ll be back to stock my cabinets with whimsical glassware and adorn my walls with sconces.

• Townshend gems - on display within the jewelry collection the Victoria & Albert museum, this collection of over 150 gems is arranged in a spiral organized by stone. Breathtaking to observe, and dare I say, inspiring in that I myself would enjoy being the cherished owner of 150 glittering gemstones of varying size and shape. If you’re of the Townshend line don't hesitate to contact me.

And now I’m back in NYC just in time for May. Poorer, fatter and better for it! Wake me up in 3-5 business days.

It’s tax season! The time of year when I publicly toil about how the city of New York is taking all my money, and privately gulp at the rival amount I spent on matcha in the same fiscal period. A double edged sword, if you will. A sweet treat allowance - especially a caffeinated one - should be a tax write-off (are you there, IRS? It’s me, Jane.)

I’ve written about an alternative milk before (see: Minor Figures), but I’ve also sampled a few new expenses around town this month. The gingersnap matcha from Asano was a gold medal contender on my podium. The matcha fig cream from Choji nearly took the cake. And then Kona dropped their spring menu - blueberry, or better yet, banana maple. In partnership with Mooala and City Harvest; the maple is sweet, the matcha is grounding, the banana milk flavor is creamy and tropical. Did I consider buying a barista lot so I can make it at home? Possibly. Just need to ask my H&R Block chatbot first if it’s a qualified deduction.

As the filthy snowpiles thaw and drain through the subway grates, the first whiff of spring in the air is hitting my brain like a smelling salt. Daylight savings is here, my shoes don’t need to be waterproof, and I left the house today without gloves or a hat. We’re up!1 Inevitably, the focus of my shopping carts is shifting forwards towards spring silhouettes and swimwear. Extreme Cashmere, however, is pinpointed perfection for my March aesthetic aspirations - chartreuse paired with hot pink; cashmere bike shorts and creative layers. If you find me squatting in their Mercer street flagship mind your business. Spring has sprung.

I have love on the brain this month. No, readers, I haven’t found the one just yet - I’ll regale you with my rolodex of bad date tales some other time. But I’m feeling the love this February, after spending time in Florida with my wonderful grandparents (married over 60 years)1 and loving parents (married over 30 years), as well as a few dear friends who are rich with beautiful stories of late - engaged, daydreaming, falling in love. As my husband hunt soldiers on, I can’t help but think about icebreakers from crushes past. Notes in lockers. An anonymous “ur pretty” left on ask.fm. Snowballing at a bat mitzvah. A like on a dating app just doesn’t hit the same.2 I love Partiful’s new crush feature for this reason - it feels nostalgic, like showing up giddy to a fraternity crush party and wondering who might have sent the invite. Now all I have to do is wait for a fellow partygoer to go ahead and start falling in love with me.3 Xoxo!

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The original high school sweethearts.

As I make my best daily attempt to commute while narrowly avoiding being swept into the East River by a gust of wind, I find myself enamored by hidden treasures. My ice-blue chrome manicure under my gloves. My graphic tee with a cartoon cherub beneath my turtleneck sweater. My gold stack of huggies tucked behind my earmuffs. It’s a little treat just for me, like when my mom would leave a teeny note in the pocket of my lunchbox.

Though quiet luxury is dead in the water for a multitude of reasons, the idea of reclaiming quiet luxury as a hidden treasure just for me, myself and I becomes exceedingly desirable. Wouldn’t owning an $18,000 Chopard watch that no one ever saw, to be only tucked away under my layers of outerwear, be the quiet luxury final boss? Wrist candy for my eyes only, nothing but silence to city passersby, fighting the good fight against the wind tunnels on their own routes to their own offices.

Happy 2026, readers! It’s a new year, which can mean a.) Absolutely Nothing at All or b.) high time for a complete reset and renewal of every aspect of your life. Choose your own adventure, but I might assume the dual weight and opportunity of a new year may be attractive to the common individual with 2025 slogging out cultural brown slop and general global hellfire.1

Just like Eleven *spoiler* absolutely incinerated herself into the Mindflayer’s twisted heart for her final battle with Vecna, maybe in my rose-colored view, the combo of shared community and nostalgia can be the flamethrower that sizzles through the slop this coming year.

In the spirit of 80’s cinema, Indiana Jones rides off into the sunset, Bueller fools Rooney, Westley rescues Buttercup and Inigo gets his revenge. The Slop personified loves to hate in the comment section - but I think the Stranger Things series finale gave us a perfect 80’s happy ending. I jumped, I laughed, I cried, and my viewing party turned off the TV satisfied at the end of a warm and fuzzy epilogue, feeling collective nostalgia for an excellent show that had a decade-long run. Discourse stimulates intellect; but when discourse becomes mass critical pessimism applied to culture at large, how can we possibly expect to fend off the looming homogenization of creativity?

In 2026, I’m manifesting more happy endings, more creativity, more togetherness, more love and more joy. Also, I have a resolution to run a mile without stopping in under ten minutes. I’ll keep you all posted.

On this content-rich posthumous Cyber Week, Matthieu Blazy’s Chanel in the Bowery subway, Spotify Wrapped Wednesday, I’m not going to write about that holiest of trinities.

I’m not going to write about the marketing for Marty Supreme1.

I don’t feel inclined to write about Robert Irwin winning the mirror ball, or Whitney Leavitt becoming Roxie Hart.

I’m not writing about the insane Fluke a la Plancha that I had for dinner last night at Casa Mono, and I’m definitely not going to write about Vanity Fair’s Guys Hanging Out Watching YouTube (even though it’s basically all I’ve thought about since premiered).

I’m not going to write about Wicked: For Good, or Nectarhouse Season 2, or Stranger Things 5 Volume 1.

I could write about the dark denim and leather Abercrombie x Kemo Sabe jeans that I spotted last week on Newbury Street. And I almost did. But instead, this week’s Thing is my brand new, 11-inch, Black Friday special, hot pink iPad.

I’m an iPad kid now. My Amtrak seatmate was visibly jealous2 of my evening train setup: ‘Pad propped up, show on.

All that’s left for world domination is acquisition of the Apple Pencil. WARNING: you may be subjected to some extremely rudimentary graphics once my wand is chosen.

Happy December!

Now that I’ve officially taken my hats, scarves, gloves, wool socks, and assorted Uniqlo Heattech undergarments out of storage, I am permitted by law to abandon salads and assorted healthy eating for the duration of the season. Who in their right mind craves a cold bowl of leaves when the wind is literally piercing through your skin? I don’t know if it’s the weather impact or the fact that I’m probably anemic and will continue to ignore it, but I’ve been craving a burger constantly this week. And so might I recommend a few to you, dear reader, since I have already enjoyed one and will undoubtedly have another before you reach the end of this post.

Nowon - shaken up with a special kimchi sauce. Don’t skimp on the honey-garlic tots.

Virginia’s - my personal favorite. Cheddar and a carmelized onion marmalade. Classic and timeless.

Fairfax - crisp with a BBQ flair. Recommended alongside the dill pickle peanuts.

And let us not forget the original Shake Shack in Madison Square Park. Double stack shack sauce with pickles and a GF bun if you’re listening.

I’ve yet to shell out the $38 for Minetta Tavern’s Black Label - but only time will tell!

Thanks to ’s most recent mixer, I was served a live introduction to Arete Studios, a community space carefully curated to perfection with burgeoning brands from around the globe. Despite both my 20/20 vision and my ever-growing pile of nonprescription frames, a strange magnetic pull kept carrying me back to Arete’s selection of As If It Wear1 specs. As the wind picks up and the layers pile on, a cutie new pair of glasses could be just what the doctor ordered (to be sure that my mascara isn’t running down my face all winter long).

While summer headwear is for function (namely sunburn prevention attempts and frizz suppressant), fall headwear is for fun. Though my crochet bucket and leopard trucker stay at the top of the rotation despite season, I think this is the year that a Parisian needs to join the party. Tipping my hat to this floral embellishment and of course this Vivienne Westwood. J’adore les chapeaux!

Hi, dear readers! Apologies for the unintentional short hiatus - September was dedicated to moving. Now that I’ve said goodbye to Murray Hill and hello to Gramercy just in time for fall, I can report back on a few faves, saves and saviors from the last couple of weeks.

• Mermaiden by Tyler McGillivary - Aquamarine herself closed the show. Just add water!

• Everything plaid (especially these looks from in Sezane, in Guizio, this Gap bomber, the most perfect Damson reversible trench).

• Otter Movers - The influencers want you to use Roadway but I’m telling you to use Otter. Best deal in town and they moved the entire 2-bedroom 20 blocks in 2 hours without a scratch.

• Sorate - My favorite matcha spot loves me so much that they opened a second offshoot in my neighborhood. Expect a wait, but a worthwhile one.

• Cortis’ GO! and Raye’s WHERE IS MY HUSBAND! Exclamatory music only this month.

• Ganni x NB loafers - After a few disappointing sneaker drops, Ganni has finally tackled the New Balance 1906L snoafer as they should. Hideous and so covetable.

• Bub’s Bakery - Feeding a baked good craving inspired by my friend and her perfect pastry club, for all my fellow allergy kids Bub’s is doing it so right. I’d deem it the closest win yet in NYC to my all-time fave Hell Yeah Gluten Free.

• J.Crew’s vintage popup at 190 Bowery.

• Dear Pilates - 7:30am Mat Sculpt with Julianna will kick your ass in the cutest space for only 8 or 9 ClassPass credits.

• Corn fritters at Union Square Cafe - obviously the roast chicken altered my brain chemistry, but this special appetizer joined my top five bites of the year. It was like a Cookout hush puppy met a pumpkin Munchkin. Unreal.

• This dress.

That’s all for now - happy October!

One thing to know about my family is that if all my relatives completed extensive genetic testing, doctors would find that our bloodline is chronically obsessed with vintage Ralph Lauren.1 Granted, the majority of my most excellent RL pieces were procured straight from my gram’s collection. Although it stands the test of generations, in my family and at large, even an ultimate American staple must reinvent again and again.

In the spirit of today’s piece, I asked ChatGPT: how do you reinvent a timeless classic?

“To reinvent something classic or timeless, you need to honor its original essence while introducing a fresh twist. This can be done by updating materials, playing with proportions, recontextualizing it, or blending it with modern technology, values, or aesthetics. The key is to keep it recognizable but make it feel surprising and relevant today.”

Enter Ask Ralph. Even though my 9 to 5 is in the throes of e-comm AI, the use case of asking Ralph yourself nails, to me, the surprise of reinvention. Developed in partnership with Microsoft, this is a fresh take on shopper discovery combined with the loyalty of an app shopper and the brand voice of an industry icon. Can’t wait to have Ralph himself style next year’s US Open look!

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Me in full RL denim.

My fabulous late Gram in RL.

My cousin Sam, the RL king.

Me just last week in RL at the Open.