1. Where to go

Since returning from Berlin, I haven’t spent that much time stomping around the city, but a couple of weekends ago, after a day spent on the water with my friend, Logan, we decided to have a girls’ night out in the West Village.

First we stopped at Do Not Disturb. It’s always fun to come and people-watch here — it gets elbow-to-elbow and stuffy fast, especially on a hot summer night, but I love ordering a nonsense cocktail, seeing what first dates are happening in the restaurant section in the back, and joking around with whoever ends up at the bar next to us. All the cocktails have tongue-in-cheek names, but my favorite is always the Side Piece: tequila blanco, lime juice, simple syrup, orange bitters, and egg white foam, garnished with baby’s breath. My friend Sofia joined in too, but we only stayed for one drink, deciding to make our way down Hudson St. to see who was out and about.

Around the corner from Do Not Disturb was WXOU Bar, which would’ve been the perfect pit stop had the bouncer not given one of my friends a hard time about having a crinkly ID. I’ve never encountered that before, but make sure your ID is spotless in case you go there; I mean, it’s not like it’s a fake... On we went, straight to Employees Only.

There was a huge line forming down the block when we got there, but S — the king of EO — struck us a deal since it was already packed inside: come back in twenty, and he’d get us in. To kill time, we stopped in at Barrows Pub. There was a guy playing pool, taking it very seriously, and he got upset when he thought we’d erased his name from the lineup (we didn’t — would’ve been funnier if we had). It was an eclectic mix of Stonewall veterans, young grads grabbing a beer and, like us, some people just waiting for their next destination.

Please stop and take a look at the gentleman in the checkered pants. He was delighted to tell me that everything was vintage; those unforgettable pantaloons, if I remember correctly, were Ralph Lauren and his glasses, Tom Ford. I’d never seen someone in so much orange and pull it off.

After politely nodding along to a weird story from one of the patrons who seemed to live in the backroom of the bar, we flitted back to EO. S welcomed us immediately, happy to see we came back and were ready to party. Once inside, we ordered espresso martinis, danced in the cramped walkway, then took over a table across from the bar and held court there for a couple hours chatting up the locals and tourists who brushed by.

By the time we peeled ourselves off the barstools, there was only one move left: a slice at Gotham St. Pizza, my new favorite late-night slice. Right thickness (not thick at all) and GIANT.

After a summer mostly up in the suburbs, I'm excited to get back into the swing of things in New York — texting a friend at 4 pm to see who's free that night, ending up somewhere new because someone had a recommendation, and staying out later than planned.

2. What to wear

This week, my sister suggested I put together some wardrobe ideas for the upcoming back-to-school season, as she is returning to her MBA program in a couple of weeks. This is more of a stream of consciousness than a set guide, but here are a few simple staple pieces that do a lot of the heavy lifting to make a look polished from day to night.

For a reliably put-together look on colder days, layer the FLORE FLORE Iman Shirt or Striped Jersey Tee over a J.Crew Rollneck and pair it with the Vince Italian Stretch-Cotton Flare Pant or AG Sandra Jean and Staud Ankle Boots; this pair in good condition is available on ThredUp for $47.49 in size EU 38 1/2. Drape the RHONE Cocoon Crop Jacket on top from Poshmark for $145, size Medium. Accessorize with this Lié Studio Maggie Bracelet or a heavy sterling silver multi-stone bangle like this one I found on Poshmark. Similar to the Rhone jacket, but with, hopefully, better rain protection, is the gorgeous Róhe Oversized Jacket.

After class or work, you can switch out your sweater or top with this Nili Lotan Lace Floral Button-Down Top or this Anne Fontaine Black Lace Button-Up Blouse, and your look goes from casual to flirty. This Atorie Lambskin Leather Tote is a good bag to schlep your laptop and your change of clothes.

Speaking of bags, my friend, Andriana (queen of adorable purses), also just pointed me to the new Sézane canvas tote collection; this brown color is beautiful and unexpected. The larger Paule Tote Bag is sold out in Brown, but the mini Solange Tote Bag is still available.

On a random note, I like that we’ve moved past vests. I feel like there was an infiltration of vests over the past few years; the J.Crew Shell Top feels like a nice update to that style.

Also, these Claudette Flats will not be everyone’s cup of tea, but they are so darling; I like them in white with a summer dress or black with jeans or slacks.

For men, I like this look that transitions easily from the office or class to happy hour. The chore jacket makes it a little less stiff, and I like the creases on the loafers for a bit more flair than your standard G.H Bass option.

To achieve this look, pair the Buck Mason Big Oxford Shirt with a white T-Shirt underneath; I like the crop of this one from COS under the Donegal Military Overshirt from Todd Snyder. Add the Pleated Trousers from Percival and hold them up with the Déhanche Hollyhock Belt; it’s a bit like jewelry without doing too much, and hit the streets with a pair of Atorie Sheep Loafers. To ensure that it looks like you read, throw on these sunglasses on top, found on TRR. Round it all out with this Miansai Signet Ring.

For a less corporate vibe, it’s expensive, but this is also a really nice belt from Hermès, found on TRR. I could see it with a lived-in pair of jeans, a button-down, and dare I say a Chukka boot.

I think a lot of people struggle with styling because they think they need to constantly have new pieces. Some of the best-dressed people I know follow a formula or keep a “uniform,” and to me, a signature DNA is always going to look better than chasing a trend. I applaud people who have bolder taste than I do, but being raised with a uniform (Catholic school girl here), I prefer to have a set of durable staples.

3. What to read

Last week I picked up Kin by Tayari Jones. I feel like I’m a few months late but finally came off the waitlist on Libby. Kin opens in Honeysuckle, Louisiana, in the 1950s, where two little girls become “cradle friends” — bonded before they can even remember choosing each other. Vernice, known as Niecy, and Annie share something devastating in common: they’re both motherless. Annie’s mother abandoned her as a newborn; Niecy’s mother was shot by her own father, who then took his own life. Out of that shared wound, the two girls grow into something like sisters, even though nothing binds them by blood.

The novel is told from both of their points of view, alternating between Niecy and Annie as their lives pull sharply apart. Niecy is the cautious one; she goes on to Spelman College in Atlanta and marries into a prominent Black family, moving through a world of polish and expectation. Annie is the restless one, consumed by the need to find the mother who left her; at eighteen she strikes out for Memphis, chasing that thread into a much rockier life. Letters keep them tethered across the distance, and years later a crisis pulls them back together, forcing both women to reckon with who they are without the mothers they never had.

What happens to these women along the way is often shockingly sad, unfair, even to the point of being absurdist. I’ve loved sinking into each of their worlds and watching how differently they navigate young adulthood through all its uncertainty, peril, and fear.

One line that’s stuck with me is something Niecy’s aunt tells her — essentially, that you should show up somewhere the way you want to be there, i.e., the same way that people say that you should “dress for the life you want.” It’s such a simple idea, but it’s been rattling around in my head ever since, mostly because I thought of every time I’ve shown up to the airport in schlubby sweatpants. It goes deeper than that. But I like the idea that you should be ready to present yourself wherever you land, and I think that’s part of why I fixate on clothes the way I do. I’m no expert, but it takes a certain eye to look put together no matter the occasion. Really, it’s like anything else: if you respect where you are, you’ll respect how you show up in it.

I spent the last week traipsing around Berlin with my friends, Michael and Komal, to visit our friend, Anaïs, and take in the city for the first time. Michael graciously hosted us in his family apartment, and those six days were a blur of his favorite local spots, historical monuments, the Alte Nationalgalerie, biergartens, party hopping, and LOTS of card games. I’ll admit my perception of Berlin was skewed because of the way the party scene is talked about globally and my own (incorrect) impression that the city would be filled with more brutalist architecture, but I found it to be an incredibly relaxing city with lush landscaping, brightly colored buildings, and generally just a very comfortable place to spend a holiday weekend.

The first day we landed, we went straight in for the shenanigans and spent our first night out at KitKatClub. Founded in 1994, it is Berlin nightlife’s most notorious open secret: a strict fetish-and-glamour dress code at the door, three dance floors, an outdoor pool, and an ethos, “do what you want but stay in communication,” that’s made it a fixture of the city’s sex-positive, uninhibited techno scene. Not a place you stumble into; a place you dress for. This to me kind of felt like Le Petit Hermitage in LA but indoors and obviously, more overtly sex positive. We didn’t stay long, but honestly it opened my eyes to how natural it can be to be ‘au naturel’. It's exhibitionist without being tawdry or dramatic; I loved that about this place.

Tucked into Kreuzberg on Dieffenbachstraße, Lala is where Berlin’s melting-pot energy meets Istanbul on a plate — the whole concept is built around “flavors to share, stories to tell.” Expect a menu of dishes meant for the table, and do not skip the Mǔcver, which are Mediterranean-style vegetable patties with herb yogurt. 10/10

A tiny French café near Weinbergspark in Mitte, Café Fleury runs on tartines, couscous salad, a standing pastry counter, and smoothies for the days you can’t get a seat inside. We had the breakfast platter, which had duck rillet, cheeses, meats, soft-boiled eggs, and toast and jam. It’s an excellent place to start the morning slowly or catch up with friends.

Berlin’s Orangerie sits right on the grounds of Schloss Charlottenburg — part garden café, part grand event space, all borrowed 18th-century glamour. Come for cake and coffee on the terrace in the shadow of the palace, or, if the timing’s right, for the kind of event that makes you feel like you’ve wandered into someone else’s fairy tale. We saw a couple getting married in the garden below and I can only imagine they got some beautiful pictures. Since it was kind of chilly when we ventured over there, I ordered their gnocchi that comes with a fennel and caper sauce and a Hagebuttentee (rose hip).

Open since 2001 on Potsdamer Straße in Schöneberg, Victoria Bar is the closest thing Berlin has to a cocktail institution — the Mad Men set that happens to be real, run by bartenders who’ve been perfecting the room for over two decades. Low light, honey-colored wood, a soundtrack of muffled funk, and drinks — from rediscovered vintage recipes to house originals. This was the highlight of my trip. My friend, Anaïs, has been talking about it since I met her (her best friend’s family owns the place), and coincidentally, all of the branding is my favorite animal, the Tapir. From the decal on the door to the menus and even a couple of figurines tucked in the back of the bar. It reminds me of Employees Only, but larger and smoking inside is encouraged. Hah. I sipped champagne all night and learned all about the history of the bar from Beat, a long-time bartender who toasted our arrival with their signature champagne and vodka combo at the ring of a bell.

A former dog-biscuit factory in Rummelsburg turned sprawling, multi-day techno playground — Sisyphos is less a club than a self-contained world, with stream-side grounds, treehouses, fire pits, and a dance floor that is constantly bumping. There is coffee, pizza, brats, and even soup on offer so you never have to leave. This is probably the best party I’ve been to all year; I loved the mix of young and old and the different style that everyone brought to the function; it swallowed our Sunday afternoon whole, and I can’t wait to go back.

2. What to wear

As much as I love the summer and wearing next to nothing, I prefer to be bundled up and in a coat. There’s something about an August in New York that always makes me want to race through it to get to Fall.

Those who know me well know that I love a cheeky hat and an impractical boot. I also run impossibly cold (in any season) and always have a pair of toe warmers on me, just in case, (maybe I should get that checked out…). This week, I’m sharing a few of my hardest-working pieces in the Fall/Winter, and some of my latest finds.

Gap Cropped Faux Fur Jacket on Poshmark for $68, size Medium and another for $50, size Large.

Aligne Daphne Borg Jacket on Poshmark for $200; admittedly, I found mine for $85 - I am like a hawk when it comes to these deals.

Sometimes I feel like a felt mouse when I wear my Reformation Owen Jacket, but it is an adorable and incredibly warm piece when you want to look put together but hate being cold. I found one on Poshmark for $265, in size XXS.

I also have the Reformation Scarlet Jacket in black and white houndstooth with a removable faux fur trim. If you like the blue check pattern, the Reformation Daisy Cropped Jacket is a dolled-up and flirty alternative for $135 in size S, featuring charming front tie closures. I also found a simpler Black Wool version of my coat for $165, in size Medium.

This past October I borrowed a Charlotte Simone Cheetah Coat on Pickle for $75/week, as a statement jacket to wear about town and as part of my Cruella deVille look over Halloween. Paired with laid-back basics, like jeans and a T-shirt, these coats do all the talking.

For this winter, I have my eye on the retro Reformation Templeton Jacket. I found one on Poshmark for $200, size Medium.

For a transitional piece, I came across this Vintage Marni Jacket for $175, size 42 European, which would be great when the first fall chill starts to creep in.

Another great late summer/early fall jacket that I own is the Rails Easton Jacket. I bought it first in Westhampton a few years ago but left it in an Airbnb in St Tropez (oops). I found it for $135 in size S and $35 in size L in so-so condition. Clearly, there’s room to negotiate on this one. I recouped another version a month ago for $75 in Size M in perfect condition.

Friendly reminder that my line is always open if you’re looking for a specific piece; I am the self-proclaimed best at finding a great deal. In that vein, I wanted to tease that I am launching a new website that will be a home for my styling services and a catalogue for my previous work. More on that soon.

Lastly, on a walk through the Kreuzberg neighborhood in Berlin, I walked by Fadeninsel, which offers wool in all varieties and colors, needles, instructions, accessories, knitted products, and hosiery. My friend, Vivian, has been making a gorgeous, Sèzane-like sweater and offered to make me one when she finishes hers. With that project in mind, I decided to step in and inspect my options. I was immediately drawn to a 100% wool lilac yarn (pictured below). All ten packs of the yarn cost me around $85, not bad for premium quality. I also have some leftover mother of pearl coins that I bought on Etsy that I was going to use to revamp a shoe I found on Depop but didn’t end up purchasing and I found two places in New York that could make the button holes for me:

• Buttonology Inc.: Located at 264 W 40th St. Known for custom shell and natural material sourcing, laser work, and individual design consultations.

• Remco Button Company Inc: Located at 109 W 38th St. A long-standing manufacturer working extensively with mother-of-pearl and custom hardware.

Upon paying, the shop owner told me how delighted she is with the idea of my project and gave me her card so that I could send her a picture of the final product. If you can’t tell, I’m extremely excited about this project and can’t wait to have a one-of-a-kind piece from my amazingly talented friend and wear it around town this upcoming winter.

3. What to read

Timed with my visit to Berlin, last week I decided to re-read a book I picked up last summer, Sister Europe by Nell Zink. When I first grabbed it off the shelf at Greenlight Book Store, I joked around with B about its opening pages — a bedtime story a father tells his sick daughter about a glacier the size of Greenland collapsing into the sea and sending a tsunami rolling all the way to their Berlin doorstep. It got us talking about glacial erratics, which are boulders that glaciers pick up and carry, sometimes hundreds of miles, then leave behind — often a completely different rock type from anything else in the surrounding landscape — when the ice retreats and melts. Fort Greene happens to sit right next to one, so the coincidence felt too good not to mention.

The novel itself is a whip-smart, one-night snapshot of Berlin’s cultural elite, set at an exclusive literary gala honoring a celebrated author. What begins as a stiffly formal affair slowly comes undone, pulling its guests — a disaffected prince, a native Berliner and his troubled friend, an American publisher, and a precocious transitioning teenager — into an unforgettable midnight walkabout through the city, Burger King included. I got a kick out of that detail walking around Berlin this past week — Burger King seemed to be everywhere, and I think I spotted just one McDonald’s the whole time, in Mitte (their equivalent of Midtown). Funny, since McDonald’s is the one I’d always assumed had won the global fast-food wars.

By the time the night in the book is over, old hierarchies have cracked, and everyone’s a little changed. The New York Times Book Review calls Zink’s voice “cool and fastidious” with a “screwball” edge, and Vogue dubs it “a worldly hangout novel of 21st-century manners.” Sharp, funny, and deceptively light on its feet, it’s a great choice for readers who like their social satire with real bite.

1. Where to go

To kick off my birthday weekend, last Saturday a few friends and I went to The Ten Bells in Bushwick to share some tapas, including their croquetas, the chorizo and scallion skewers, and pintxos with olives, red pepper, and anchovies. A neighboring table was celebrating a birthday as well and offered us some of their cheesecake, which my friend, Vivian, correctly guessed was from the Japanese bakery (whose name now inconveniently escapes me), but it definitely had Venieros beat.

From there, since it was still early, we made a pit stop at The Johnson’s. There was a fried chicken burger that we collectively inhaled even though it had a field’s worth of arugula on top of it. I always have a great time when I come here because there are so many different pockets to this space - there’s a Caribbean lounge area with a quasi-Rousseau-looking mural, and a more dive-y back with stools and a pool table. Since I was celebrating, I obviously had to order their festive piña colada.

The final destination for the night was Elsewhere. We stayed for hours; my watch actually gave out when it turned 1 am, and I thought it was “early,” but in reality we left around 3 am, spending all night dancing on the sticky floor by the DJ booth.

On Sunday, the 19th, B and I woke up at 10 am on Sunday to make our 11:10 showing of 101 Dalmatians on film at The Metrograph. Before going into the theater, we stopped by Elbow Bread Bakery for an Iced Matcha, a Strawberry, Lemon + Sheep’s Cheese Danish, and an Everything + Cream Cheese Bialy. We quickly enjoyed those, and with a few minutes to spare before the movie started, we checked out the concessions and got a bag of popcorn for the movie. Some of you may remember that I complained that the popcorn felt old when I went recently at night; I’m happy to report that it was SO buttery and salty this go around. They must pop it and bag it in the morning. Next time you’re feeling like you haven’t made the most of your Sunday, I highly recommend following our Sunday morning formula.

That Monday, to celebrate my birthday (I am a triplet), my parents took us to Marea in Columbus Circle. I’ve mentioned before how much I love this restaurant; I went a handful of times with an ex, and it’s left a lasting impression. It doesn’t matter how far away in time you go from the last time; the service is going to be impeccable every single time.

I ordered the classics: Lobster Astice to start and the fusilli. The Astice is chilled Nova Scotia lobster served over a pool of burrata that’s more sauce than solid, with eggplant al funghetto and basil scattered through. It sounds like an odd pairing, seafood and cheese, until you taste it. The lobster is sweet and impossibly tender, and the burrata just melts into everything, so every bite is some version of rich and clean at the same time.

Then the fusilli, which is the most famous thing on the menu for a reason. It’s octopus braised low and slow in Sangiovese, tomato, and garlic until it loses every bit of chew, tossed with bone marrow that’s been seared off separately and folded in to melt into the sauce. The whole thing gets finished with toasted breadcrumbs for crunch. My dad called it “seafood bolognese,” and he’s totally right.

Our server let me know that they could make any drink I wanted; last time I’d been, I remembered they’d made something like a pisco sour but with strawberries. He informed me this time that they didn’t have pisco, but what I got was a chartreuse-y concoction that was absolutely delicious until the foamy bit started smelling like my dog after walking her in the rain. Nobody wants to imbibe wet dog LOL (we joked about this as a family).

Last Thursday I planned to go to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden with B for their Jazz in July series to see Prince Emagine & Friends. They’re a Brooklyn-based collective who weave together jazz, soul, spoken word, and Afro-Caribbean musical traditions, and the show was presented in partnership with IAMcariBEING as a celebration of Little Caribbean. It’s held right in the Plant Family Collection, so you’re not sitting in some sterile venue. You’re on the grass, surrounded by everything blooming in July, with the birds still going about their evening business like the music is just part of the garden’s soundtrack.

There is something about planning an evening this beautiful, being among the flowers and the plants and the birds, and then having music like that move through you, that I didn’t fully register in the moment. It’s only looking back now that I can feel how much it meant, the way certain nights announce themselves as significant only after they’ve already passed. I didn’t know that night was going to feel like one of the last times B and I would have something exactly like that. I just know that now, sitting with it, it does.

I spent Sunday at the Greenwich Polo Club, and the grounds alone were worth the drive. I have seen a lot of manicured lawns in my life, and this was still on another level, that impossibly even green that looks almost engineered, rolling out toward the sidelines where everyone had staked their claim with blankets and low chairs. We set up our own picnic in the thick of it, but the whole field had turned into its own little ecosystem. There was a lobster truck doing steady business, a handful of bars scattered around (Veuve was pouring as a sponsor, so the champagne situation was handled), and a row of pop-up shops from local boutiques for anyone who wanted to shop between chukkers. It has that Hamptons-meets-country-club energy where everyone is dressed like they just wandered off a Ralph Lauren shoot, which, at Greenwich Polo, they basically have.

I was surprised that my girlfriends found adorable sun hats for just $60 - honestly, I was imagining the prices to be $100 more.

What I keep thinking about, watching the match itself, is that polo is a game that punishes hesitation. You cannot score sitting still, and you cannot score looking backward. Every play that actually goes anywhere is a player committing to the ball and riding forward into open field, even when the smarter, safer thing would be to hang back. There is no version of the game where staying put wins you anything.

I thought about that a lot on Sunday; it turns out you do not have to feel entirely whole to still move forward.

2. What to wear

I’ve spent the last few weeks scouring Poshmark for fun finds for my upcoming trip to Berlin and for the fall ahead. Sorry to those who hate to acknowledge it, but we’ll be in crisper weather sooner than we care to admit.

Nili Lotan Nathael Shirt Tunic - I got this in a size M, and while my other button-downs from Nili run large, I was expecting this to be a bit more form-fitting given the way it drapes on the model. I didn’t have a chance to actually try her on though as I was running off to the airport shortly after picking her up from the Post Office.

Anne Fontaine Parfaite Cotton Ribbed Ruffle Cardigan - My mother used to have one of these in a heathered gray and let me tell you I stole that sweater and wore it to the ground. It was feminine, just warm enough, and looks great at the office (with a shirt underneath and one button) or on a date on its own fully buttoned.

ba&sh Printed Mini Dress in Green - I’m excited to wear this one in the fall with a little heel or the STAUD Wally Boot. I still haven’t found a tall black version that I’m comfortable pulling the trigger on but that’s the look I’m envisioning.

ALIGNE Daphne Faux Shearling Jacket - I’ve been sitting on this one since it came out over a year ago. If you wait long enough, I believe you’ll get anything down to a price you’re comfortable with.

Doên Florence Silk Shirt I wore it to my birthday dinner in the city. Shoutout to B for giving me the beautiful Melisse Passion Bag that I paired the look with. I’ve mentioned them a few times, and this one was the perfect pop of color for my otherwise plain outfit.

If any of these pieces resonate with you or you find yourself looking for similar styles, I love scouring TRR, Poshmark, eBay, and Depop for the best deals. Hit my line if you’re in the market for anything specific.

In the spirit of buying second-hand, I also learned that there is a resale shop in the basement of the Free People in Herald Square. Worth the hassle if you’re into their knits. I’ve had some for nearly 15 years that are still in excellent condition. A bit last minute for me to find out is also hosting a shopping event today at 6:45 pm EST with Free People and their vintage pieces. If you’re not witnessing it in person, tune in here and shop the FP collections streaming on Substack. Note: She will be dropping THE link to buy the vintage that you see.

Watch NEVERWORNS here

3. What to read

Anika Jade Levy is about as downtown-lit-scene as it gets right now. She’s a founding editor of Forever Magazine, the scrappy print zine she started with Madeline Cash (yes, that Madeline Cash, the two have been close since before either of them had book deals), and she teaches writing at Pratt. Flat Earth, out this past November from Catapult, is her debut novel.

The book follows Avery, a broke grad student ghostwriting copy for a right-wing dating app while nominally working on a dissertation about conspiracy theories, and her best friend Frances, an effortlessly rich, effortlessly chic filmmaker who drops out of school, gets married, and still somehow finishes a documentary before Avery finishes a chapter.

If you grew up on Gossip Girl, you’ll recognize the shape of this friendship immediately. Serena and Blair energy: a real, deep disregard for each other’s feelings, and yet they show up when it counts. Frances buys Avery a new phone when her cracked screen starts cutting her fingers. Avery sleeps with Frances’s husband, and Frances barely blinks, which somehow says more about the power imbalance than if she’d made a scene. It’s Avery’s turn to do something for Frances by the end, but the whole book makes clear the math will never even out. The real gut-punch detail is smaller than either of those: Frances used to be named Kayleigh. The rebrand alone tells you everything about how hard everyone in this book is performing.

There’s a passage where Avery lists off a string of increasingly apocalyptic New York disasters: a bomb on Rockaway Beach, a sinkhole in Park Slope swallowing a car, a tornado in Upper Manhattan, and it read almost too close to home given everything that’s actually happened this year, i.e., the salad-induced Cyclospora nightmare.

It also gave me a flicker of déjà vu: a bombed port and a missing-persons case both show up in Madeline Cash’s Lost Lambs too. I don’t know if that’s a real echo between two close friends working the same material, or just me connecting dots because I know they’re in each other’s orbit. Either way, it’s a fun rabbit hole if you’ve read both.

And then there’s the prose itself, which is doing something genuinely strange and specific. At one point a character “takes a sip” of a cigarette. I have exactly one friend who talks like that, and now I’m wondering if Levy knows him too.

Published just months ago, Flat Earth feels like a time capsule of downtown NYC right now: the exhaustion with dating, the resignation about careers, the sense that something’s always about to break. If you want the “state of the city” novel of this exact moment, this is it.

Writing this section of the newsletter this week, I realized I’ve strayed from my original proposition of focusing on dining and have gravitated towards cataloging my week. I’m not going to enough restaurants or bars week to week that are new or (new to me) for that to be substantive, so while this section of the newsletter is largely dedicated to dining, I want to introduce other recommendations from wellness practices to entertainment, too.

To start, last Saturday, B. and I braved the rain for 60-minute massages ($55) at Prospect Heights Eastern Spa. What I didn’t know until I was face down, undressed, and vulnerable under the provided sheet was that we’d booked Thai-style massages, meaning the masseuse uses forearms, elbows, knees, and sometimes even feet to work through your knots. It was intense. My shoulders and neck (my problem areas) were sore the day after, and when I tried to indicate as much mid-massage, I got the sense my masseuse either didn’t understand or didn’t care to adjust. No questions asked going in, no check-ins along the way. Meanwhile, through the shared wall, I could hear B. and his masseuse chatting easily. He walked in with lower back pain and walked out a new man. Pain-free, thrilled, already planning his next appointment. This is by no means a singing endorsement on my end, but I would go back, given the proximity, the cleanliness, and the price. If you’re in the Fort Greene/Prospect Heights area and are also a sucker for this kind of maintenance, you can book services here.

Saturday afternoon, I met up with friends at Les Enfants de Bohème, the cozy French corner bistro on Henry and Jefferson in the LES, to watch Norway vs. England. They’d set up a TV on their wall outside for anyone passing by to enjoy, and by kickoff the crowd had spilled well past our table. I’ll admit the reservation process was a bit of a saga. I’d booked a table for six via Resy, and when my friend arrived, they were happy to switch us outdoors but strangely particular about timing and headcount, more fuss than a laid-back bistro really calls for. Once we were actually seated, though, all was forgiven. We made fast friends with our waiters, who got just as sucked into the match as we did. We ended up ordering several bottles of orange wine, fries, oysters, paté de compagne, and a wheel of camembert. The service was warm and attentive, even as more spectators piled in off the street. My only real critique: the oysters were larger and less delicate than I’d like, not quite the dainty bite I was hoping for, but that’s a personal preference more than a knock on the kitchen.

We carried the momentum to The Exley, the Williamsburg gay bar named for the notoriously hard-drinking writer Frederick Exley, where they were streaming Argentina vs. Switzerland. I somehow always end up here with my lovely gay friends, and the disco ball makes it an easy place to lose track of time. The drinks are consistently solid, with one exception: the Fernet con Coca, affectionately nicknamed the fernandito and beloved as Argentina’s unofficial national drink. I wouldn’t serve this bitter concoction to my worst enemy.

On Sunday, B. and I went for a stroll to Thea on Fulton for breakfast before the brunch rush. I ordered the Arayes off their specials menu - a quarter-sliced pita filled with spiced ground beef, delicate herbs, pickled jalapenos, and a tangy schug-like sauce. I also ordered an iced strawberry matcha and split a cinnamon bun with B, and we enjoyed these in the shade of the park across the street.

Later that afternoon, I met up with my friend, Michael, at Olea and sipped, or, rather, slurped, on a pomegranate-lemonade slushy.

From there, we made our way to Soul Summit and met up with a few others for their free house and soul party that's taken over the hill at Fort Greene Park every Sunday afternoon since 2002. It's an all-ages, all-day thing run by a DJ collective, founded by Sadiq Bellamy, Tabu, and Jeff Mendoza, that's become, as I’ve learned, one of the unofficial Brooklyn summer institutions at this point, more than twenty years deep. It's also long been a staple (and celebration) of the city's Black and queer house music scene, though these days the crowd is a mix of everyone, spilling across the whole hillside by the monument. Afrobeats, nutcrackers, hot dogs, a flea market of vendors, and enough barbecue smoke to smell it before you see it.

On Wednesday, I went downtown to Convene at Brookfield Place with my friend, Matt, and the production team he’s worked with on past showcases to walk the space ahead of Harlem Free Fight Academy’s Sub-Only Showcase on August 1st. We mapped out where the mats will go, where fighters will warm up and hang out before their matches, and where the food setup will land, the unglamorous logistics that actually make an event run. I’ve talked about Harlem Free Fight here before, but it bears repeating: this is a genuinely lovely organization doing real work with kids in Harlem, and if you’re compelled to support them, I’ll drop the donation link below.

Link to donate to Harlem Free Fight

After my meeting with Matt and the Convene team, I took the 1 uptown towards the Village. I decided to spend my afternoon finishing my work from The Marlton Hotel on W 8th St and having lunch at Chez Nous. I ordered a green juice with apple, lemon, ginger, kale, spinach, cucumber, celery, zucchini, romaine, a turkey club with avocado, and, of course, shoestring fries instead of the salad. No threat of lettuce-born cyclospora here!

I used to love working from the booths in the ante room of the main dining area before the renovation last year. The living room is still a very comfortable place to work, but it can get noisy when it turns into Happy Hour and can get a bit dark in the late afternoon with their moody lighting (which is ideal if you’re bringing a date along, just maybe note if you’re staring at documents on a screen).

2. What to wear

Fresh off Sinner and Noskova's wins at Wimbledon this past weekend, I wanted to round up the best tennis and athletic-adjacent attire of the moment. Lots of fun collaborations happening in the tennis world this summer:

• Miu Miu x New Balance: I like the branding here but can’t in good conscience recommend any of these pieces. I refuse to spend more than $200 on anything sports-related. Sorry!

• From brunch to practice, this Halter Dress from Vuori works on and off the court.

• For those who sunburn, like me, this Free People x Adidas UV-protected t-shirt is perfect for afternoons tossing serves in the sun. Free People also has a great Hanes collab. I like this Boat Neck for moments when you go to the gym but want to look put together running errands afterward.

• If you like a bit of color and your court doesn’t enforce all-white attire, this Nike Tennis Skirt Set I found on Poshmark comes with a coral halter top and a coral-accented ruffled skirt.

• I’ve never purchased anything from Adanola; it’s never really called to me, but this tennis dress looks buttery soft, and I like the scoop back and high neck (for my sun-rash-prone girls).

• If you want to be the most intimidating person on the court, you could show up in this Stella McCartney dress and carry this Lacoste Croc Leather Racquet Bag. (Note: the dress says Size EU 40, but it looks slightly smaller.) I’m kind of tempted to pull the trigger on this one. I love the mesh detailing.

Forget the scoreboard for a second, because Naomi Osaka has been playing a different game entirely this Wimbledon: sartorial chess. Working with Tokyo designer Hana Yagi, she built out a whole rotation of walk-on looks inspired by ceremonial kimonos (and, delightfully, Lucy Liu's Kill Bill era) while staying inside the tournament's notoriously strict all-white rules. Round one brought a floor-length kimono with three-dimensional crane and cherry blossom embroidery, an obi belt, bell sleeves, and a kanzashi hair piece, all worn over a match-ready Nike dress underneath. By round two she'd lightened things up with an embroidered bomber jacket and train, same waistband, different mood. Round three went full ceremonial again, with cherry blossoms cascading from the shoulder straight into her hair. It's the rare athlete who treats a dress code as a creative constraint rather than a cage, and honestly, I'd watch her walk onto court over most red carpets right now.

To give credit to the original "It" girl: no one did tennis glamour quite like Anna Kournikova. This woman knew how to make a statement on court, and I mean that literally, since she famously played in a match wearing an 11-carat pink diamond from Enrique Iglesias, sourced from Australia's Argyle mine before it shut down for good. I can't stand playing with long nails; I couldn’t imagine gripping a racquet with a rock like that on my finger, but I wouldn’t mind having to overcome that “problem”.

Now, for this week’s style edit, I’m experimenting with a new visual format. See below:

Going away for the weekend? This Wilson Tennis Bag does double duty, storing your racquet and your gear in beautiful black leather. Would I actually play tennis in these ballet-like sneakers from Toteme? No. But they are very adorable.

This Lacoste number is also chic. The pleat and zip feel sophisticated and like the kind of dress I would’ve hated my mom giving me in middle school but would love to wear now.

After the workout, show off your toned legs in this BANANHOT Shirred Mini Dress. The tie top details and exaggerated sleeves are just the right amount of fun and flirty.

3. What to read

With tennis on the mind, last Saturday, I went back to Greenlight Bookstore, arguably the cutest local bookstore around, and picked up Dad Had a Bad Day by Ashton Politanoff.

Dad Had a Bad Day follows Ned Lafferty, a former college tennis star nearing forty, who’s just lost his job and finds himself on “daddy daycare” duty for his six-year-old son, Freddie, while his wife Lorraine works to keep the family afloat. When Ned rediscovers his old racquet in the garage, a chance encounter with a father and son playing tennis reignites his old competitive fire. He takes over as captain of a local men’s rec league team and reconnects with Roland, his former hitting partner and one-time tennis prodigy, throwing himself into building a winning team. But when Roland disappears, Ned’s search for him starts to unravel everything else: his marriage, his relationship with Freddie, and his own grip on reality.

I just loved how intensely he threw himself back into the sport. See below, for reference, I mean, go off diva!

Reviewers have described it as a dark comedy about masculinity, fatherhood, and obsession with one calling it “tennis court noir.” I absolutely raced through this book and loved every minute of it, even the absurdist twist at the end. If anyone else has read it or plans to, please let me know; I’m still in total shock over the final pages.

Last weekend I celebrated America’s 250th at my dear friend Nick’s home on Long Island. I skipped the LIRR this time and drove instead, luckily avoiding the train breakdown that happened to travelers coming from out East on Sunday.

The mix of stormy and intensely hot weather meant we spent most of the weekend cooling off inside, watching Wimbledon or the World Cup, or lounging by Nick’s pool. Friday night started with a barbecue, then we geared up to hit the town. We’ve always had a blast joking our way through the Huntington bar scene; one of our friends, Andi, even met the love of her life here! See my post, Style & Sabores, for their fabulous Sintra wedding earlier this year.

Since they closed down our favorite spot, McKeown’s Pub, in a brutal underage drinking bust (receipts here), we decided to go to Spotlight instead, which is a massive club attached to an old movie theatre/now concert venue. The crowd was an eclectic mix of people, from locals to out-of-towners, city dwellers, and college students doing their best not to get kicked out. Every inch of the bar was packed from the DJ booth to the bar because they had the Colombia vs Ghana match on the projector, and there were loads of eager fans looking to watch. Adrienne, pictured below, could make any hovel look cool.

The next night, on the 4th, we went to celebrate at Prime. Prime positions itself as an upscale waterfront surf-and-turf restaurant, and while the harbor-side location is lovely, the lackluster service detracted from the experience. As a table of nine, we ordered a bunch of appetizers to share, including a delicious freshly baked sesame-potato bread loaf and shrimp and lobster wontons. No complaints there. However, over the course of dinner, they forgot a few drink orders, mixed up a couple of appetizers, and served my friend an American cut of Wagyu instead of the Japanese cut he’d ordered.

Said with full snobbery: if you’re paying top dollar, the service should match the price, and unfortunately this time around, the staff wasn’t as attentive as one would expect. That said, if you’re willing to pay (over $100) for a melt-in-your-mouth cut of Japanese Wagyu, it’s worth it; otherwise, I can confidently say I could’ve executed the other steak cuts on the grill myself. As we were leaving and just before the fireworks were set to commence, a wild storm came on, making for a rather theatrical exit into our cars as we scrambled to get back home.

On Wednesday night, I made my way from the suburbs to Brooklyn Heights for dinner with B. We planned to stroll around the promenade and end up at Lillo for cozy, like Nonna made it, Italian fare. To start, we shared a burrata with prosciutto and ordered the linguine with truffle sauce and lobster ravioli in tomato sauce as our entrées. I found this place back when he was crashing at a friend’s spot in the neighborhood. While the space only has seating for about 10 people, the takeaway holds well, and they can customize your order to your specifications, i.e., changing pasta shapes, sauces, add-ons, you name it (if you ask nicely). Cash only.

On our way back to Fort Greene, we walked through State St and passed so many well-heeled homes. Sometimes it pays to take the long way back (and walk off the pound of pasta you just inhaled).

Thursday morning, on my way back out of the city, I stopped by my old favorite bakery, the Dominique Ansel “Workshop” in NoMad. Known for their elaborate and inventive pastries, this is the best place to go when you’ve promised someone breakfast and want to provide a showstopper. I ordered a box filled with a couple of canelés, a chocolate croissant, that gorgeous raspberry jasmine danish pictured below, an almond croissant, and a brown sugar DKA.

They used to make a comté tarte that was like a giant croquette filled with salty cheese. To my dismay, it wasn’t part of this season’s programming, but hopefully it’ll be back in the fall.

After The Workshop, I went around the corner to OM Juice, an all-natural pressed juice store that has the freshest juices, smoothies, and chia puddings. I ordered the Madison Garden Juice – Kale, pineapple, cucumber, apple, mint - and wish I could have this stuff on tap at home.

2. What to wear

This week I’ve been dreaming in shades of blue. When I saw ALIGNE’s Carlos Peplum Top, I knew I wanted to make a color-drenched post. While this campaign picture is heavily saturated and the top is actually much lighter on the website, it still is a darling set worthy of jaunts around the city or your nearest beach. IMO, they styled it terribly on their site; it looks off with black trousers, but I love how it looks paired with the matching Peplum Hem Shorts.

I’ve also been digging around for what I will wear to my friend’s wedding in Maine next month. How stunning is the back here, c’mon!

Other to die for wedding styles listed below:

• Bec + Bridge (on sale: $180 from $340) Sol Asym Dress in ‘Sea Spray.’ Reminds me of a maxi version of a dress I had in this color back in middle school from BCBG Max Azria, those were the days.

• Bec + Bridge ($150) Jehnaya Strapless Maxi in ‘Aster Blue.’ This hue is gorgeous and begging for me to buy her for my next beach getaway. Does the slit make it too risqué? I wonder.

• BOABAB Canoa Maxi Dress ($300) in ‘Cielo de Puna.’ The draping and shoulder bead details make this a show-stopping wedding guest dress.

• BOABAB Plie Maxi Dress ($350) For beachside occasions, this ombre style packs a punch.

For my girls 5’6” and under, this Ramy Brook would be an adorable cocktail dress. She’s a tad short, so I’d delegate it to standing-room-only invitations. For a budget find, this NIA number in Aqua is very cute. For a more whimsical night out ensemble, try this Isle of Monday Emmanuel Ungaro dress (rent from $145) or a bright pop of color, the Bluemarine Turquoise Bandage Dress (rent from $160)

I’ve shared her collections before, but makes one-of-a-kind bags with fabrics sourced in Paris, and today she launched The Riviera Bag, the most adorable complement to any blue ensemble.

Lastly, no one does color in New York like Brooke Callahan. I especially love her ultra-saturated Halter Top and Tie Skirt, both in ‘Turquoise’. Worn together, or as separates, these pieces showcase color unapologetically and offer a refreshing contrast to New Yorker’s typical all-black uniform.

3. What to read

Finally, I’ve landed on a great book, Nebraska by Monica Datta, courtesy of ’s Gift Guide.

As the story goes, Anna Chatterjee has just been released from prison, and her husband Prabir arrives to bring her home only to find she’s already gone. Their two grown children, Neal and Nina, are left to sort through both her disappearance and an older, unresolved trauma that split the family apart years earlier. The novel moves between decades and continents, threading in the testimony of a Lacanian* psychoanalyst named Jean-Louis Katz, whose life becomes entangled with the Chatterjees along with a Bengali psychoanalyst named B.X. Roy..

* for those who, like me, don’t know what a Lacanian is, someone who follows the psychoanalytic and philosophical theories of French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan who believed above all else that human desire is driven by perpetual lack

One of my favorite threads so far is Jean-Louis’ mother, Paulette, and the dynamic between them. She smuggled him off to Paris when he was twelve, and by then had already built a whole public identity around a thinly veiled version of her own life, right down to using conferences as cover for affairs. Jean-Louis seems to exist mostly in orbit around her, along for whatever chapter of her life is currently unfolding, more prop than person in his own mother’s story. It’s the kind of quietly domineering parent-child dynamic where she walks all over him, and he lets her, because he’s never really been given another role to play.

It’s been such a fun read because I can’t say I’ve ever read a book with such a tongue-in-cheek tone. Case in point:

It’s such a casual, matter-of-fact way to drop in an absolutely wild set of biographical details for Paulette, no fanfare, no drama, just laid out like a Wikipedia entry. That’s kind of the book’s whole magic trick so far.

The chapters flip through decades and between characters, non-sequential, no clean throughline. In almost any other book, that would feel disjointed, but here it somehow tracks. I’m almost halfway through, and I still can’t tell you definitively who’s narrating, whether it’s close to Paulette or someone watching her from just outside. If anyone’s read further and knows, don’t spoil it, but I am curious.

Small, specific joy: Jean-Louis Katz’s running bit of ranking Guelph above Paris, often in the same breath. My only reference point for Guelph is that it’s where my uncle (formerly a Toronto local) goes to stay with his Canadian family, so hearing it described as some kind of promised land was unexpected, but hey, to each their own.

One real note if you’re going to pick this up: read it in paperback, not on Kindle. I’m on my Kindle, and the footnotes run for pages at the end of each chapter instead of at the bottom of the page, so by the time you get to them, you’ve lost the thread of what they’re referring back to. And yet they’re good enough that you keep reading them anyway. Not sure if that’s a stylistic choice or just an e-book formatting limitation, but either way it’s an unusual editorial call I haven’t seen before.

Last Friday, on my way through Manhattan before heading to Bed-Stuy for dinner, I met up with friends at my old neighborhood bar, Banc, to watch France play Norway in the World Cup (and win!). It was nice to see some of the same faces that worked there when I lived upstairs over two years ago. They also upgraded their outdoor setup and added large flat screens. Kind of the perfect place to watch the game, if you want to avoid dodging elbows and spilled beer, actually want to see the screen, and have some level of attentive service. Don’t get me wrong, though- no frills here. I used to treat this place like my basement, hanging out with the bartenders, joking around with the band that came in to play weekly, and sometimes bringing my laptop down to work from whichever table was closest to the signal from my router.

Afterwards, I made my way in an Empower (notice I didn’t say Uber) over to Tompkins Ave. Originally, B and I had planned to try Dolores, but since we didn’t make a reservation and it was such a nice night, the restaurant was packed, so we walked to LerLers across the street.

LerLers was also jammed, but they had a few open outdoor dining spots, which we happily snagged. We shared a Pineapple Fried Rice with crispy pork and Pad Thai. Not only was this divine, but it was the perfect leftover. They had all sorts of fun cocktails on the menu, but since I wasn’t in the mood for a hard drink, I had their “Zaza” I believe it was called, an N/A passionfruit seltzer mocktail. Add boba, and it would’ve been my favorite drink ever. Next time I go, I’m definitely topping it all off with an order of their mango sticky rice. All their plates were customized to say “No Taste Like Bangkok” in Comic Sans, which made me laugh. I’m still wondering if they were trying to convey that it doesn’t taste like Bangkok or that there’s no better taste than Bangkok. I’ll have to go to Bangkok and find out.

Since Saturday was a “rainy day” (it barely drizzled), I decided to veg on the couch and watch TV. What I didn’t know going into the day was that the rest would come in handy.

In the afternoon, I met up with a big group of friends at Balzem in Nolita to watch Portugal and Colombia play. We ordered a bunch of plates to share: a dips platter, zucchini pancakes, halloumi-filled cigars, beef dumplings, ceviche, and steak frites. The only thing we ordered that no one seemed interested in was this seared tuna on a bed of baby potatoes. It may have been a shade too pink. Other than that, we kept the drinks flowing, and it was a good time. The staff did seem sort of anxious about the group size (could’ve been the shots we kept sending back and forth between the two tables we had), but Han, the owner, shook my hand as we left and encouraged us to come back soon. My favorite parts of the meal were the Cretan dip (walnut, cheese, and spinach) and the ceviche.

By the time we’d left, it was just before 10 pm, and we were all looking to continue that party. As with most nights out in Nolita, this led us to Bar Louie (my darling Nigel’s place) and later to Pacha!

My friend Sammy’s friend very generously got a crew of us VIP tickets to see Don Diablo. From lying on the couch to dancing around at 3 am my “chill weekend in” was anything but, but I wouldn’t have changed it at all.

By the way, the security at Pacha compared to Mirage is infinitely faster and more convenient. There also seems to be far better infrastructure and amenities in general. Compared to the dumpster fire that was Mirage’s last attempt at a renovation, I guess that statement can read as a pretty weak endorsement, but this truly was an awesome guest experience (especially as a VIP mwahaha). There were so many different bars, lounges, and seating areas, and while there were hordes of people, it didn’t feel overwhelming; there were plenty of exits, and everyone was just happy to be there vibing.

The next day, not so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after dancing into the early hours of the morning. It took a while to get up and at em, but B, his friend visiting in town, Berk, and I decided to head to Fort Greene Park for a picnic. On the way, we picked up sandwiches and snacks at Greene Grape Provisions. I ordered the caprese, but the Nathanael Greene (House Roasted Turkey, Prosciutto, Manchego, Arugula & Balsamic Mayo) stands as the best choice on the menu. In theory, the plan was fantastic; it would have been even better if I didn’t feel like we were standing on a wobbly ship while I sat on my picnic blanket, but I couldn’t have asked for a more peaceful Sunday wind down.

Yesterday I got lucky and was able to spend the afternoon on the water. My dad, mother, sister, and I went out to Ziegler’s Cove, enjoyed the sun, and swam around for a few hours. You can’t see it in this picture, but the most adorable black and white collie was on the boat across from us, excitedly jumping up and down in his life jacket and gathering the courage to catch the toy his owner flung in the water. When he finally got in the water, you could hear a resounding “yay” from everyone on the surrounding boats. This was so cute. I’ve tried taking our family collie mix to the beach, but she ends up drinking a bunch of salt water and whimpering by the shore; she’s a hose dog through and through.

While I’ve never really cared about the Fourth of July as a holiday, since it tends to feel kind of in the way, I’m excited to be going out to Long Island to my friend’s house and spending all weekend by the pool.

2. What to wear

This week, my boyfriend introduced me to Amudsen, a Norwegian outdoor-lifestyle brand all about embracing adventure and activity. The brand was served to him on Instagram (which we all know can be so-so quality-wise), but after taking a look at their website and scrolling through their Men’s and Women’s sections, I’ve come to really like the brand and their story. I first landed on the 6 in Plunge Swim Trunks; these come in 3 colors. They make a women’s cut too in a wider range of colors; very cute in ‘Ocean Spray’. The men’s style edit below was built around the Amudsen Swim Trunks in ‘Faded Navy’.

In the spirit of having a Wet Hot American Summer, jumping in the water, pedaling a bike around town, serving on a court, or air-drying your hair on the way to the bar, I made a collection of women's and (some) men’s tops, pants, shoes, and accessories. Notable numbers include the Locket Dress by Lucille NYC, the Dôen Julia Dress, and the Heiress Deep Plunge Mini Dress. If I had $500 to drop right now, I’d get this SLOAN Mini Dress w Shorts instantly. How gorgeous is that shade of red?!

The women’s edit for the week came together after I saw an ad in Vogue for this Baume et Mercier watch (pictured below). B, if you’re reading this, this is my dream evening watch.

I wanted to put together something that hinted at ‘Fourth of July’ but didn’t yell it too loudly. Besides the watch, the main focus, I feel, is on the VENROY top and skirt. I found that brand a few years ago on a trip out to Montauk next to the Munch Box (iconic store name lol). Anyway, they use really delicate fabrics and colors that have long caught my eye. Check it out if you’re ever out East.

3. What to read

This week I picked up A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. It’d been sitting as a screenshot in my folder of recommended books for a while, so I decided to find it on Libby. The story follows Francie Nolan, growing up poor in early 1900s Williamsburg with her charming, unreliable father, her hardened and practical mother, and her brother Neeley. It’s a coming-of-age story built on small, granular details of tenement life: rag collecting for pennies, penny candy, the neighborhood library Francie treats like a second home. Underneath the day-to-day survival is Francie’s quiet, stubborn hunger to become a writer.

I was drawn to this story partly because I wanted to be thrown back in time. Walking through Williamsburg now, it’s wild to picture it as tenement housing and stables. I get a similar hit of history walking past the converted carriage houses in Fort Greene. So much of the city has transformed, and yet so much has remained.

Throughout, Smith paints a very specific picture of hardship and squalor in old Williamsburg, but somehow there’s joy woven through it too. Every so often, the narrative flashes to a much wealthier New York: a neighbor who shows up in a horse-drawn carriage, sculptures, a silver cane. It’s a jarring contrast, and an intentional one.

A few things stood out to me as particularly odd as I read. Getting through the beginning of the novel, it feels like a large portion of the story is spent watching Francie watch other people live. Neeley is constantly scampering off to play with the neighborhood boys while Francie observes from a window, or slips off to the library, or to confession. And in one anecdote, Francie and Neeley are made to read a page of the Bible and a page of Shakespeare every night. I get the Bible. But would a kid who wasn’t in school really have access to Shakespeare, let alone be told to read it nightly? Not sure about that …

I think I have to revisit this book in the slower months of winter. Right now it’s not striking the right tone. I feel like the last couple of books have been duds, so I’m really looking forward to finding something great to read over the weekend while I’m hiding under an umbrella.

As many of you know, I love splitting my time between the city and the suburbs. I haven’t talked much about life in Larchmont here, but having access to nature, the forests, the quiet, the way the Long Island Sound sits there glittering, does something for me that the city never quite can. My shoulders always drop when I’m out of the noise (barring the looming threat of the leaf blower).

Last Friday was a good example of one of my favorite types of summer nights outside Manhattan and Brooklyn. My friend Sofia invited me to play tennis at her club in Connecticut. We played at sunset, then put together a picnic by the beach afterward. It’s hard to think of something more relaxing than that.

It’s also made me think about how much of the tri-state area I still haven’t explored, despite growing up here. A running list of what’s on my radar, yes, some of these may be basic, but what can I say:

• A weekend up in Litchfield County or Hudson:

  • I’ve heard so many things about Plain Goods, a lifestyle shop selling simple, well-made clothing, home goods, and antiques rooted in natural materials and timeless craftsmanship.

  • Spa day at The Barn at Troutbeck

  • A stroll through Storm King

• A weekend in Jersey:

  • Down the shore, I owe Parker House a visit. LB, this one’s for you.

  • Also just saw this post from about the hidden gems in Hunterdon County, like the Stockton Inn. You mention Marea, and I know it’s worth the trip. Just LOOK at that burrata.

    

• The Princeton Garden Tour, which I missed this year but am already planning for 2027.

• Finding a stable. Yes, I am a self-proclaimed horse girl, and it’s time to get back on the saddle.

Last Saturday, after a day celebrating my dad (it was his birthday), I came back into the city to see my friends Dayne and Seeley DJ at PHD Rooftop — somewhere I probably would have abandoned circa 2019, but I was surprised by the renovation. The lobby and the rooftop bar both looked like they’ve had a facelift, and it was great to see friends I usually only catch once a year or so. It gave me total Mister Purple flashbacks (from my underage days), when it was “the thing” to do, minus the sliminess.

On Wednesday night, my boyfriend took me to see The Breeders at Pier 17. I’ve gotta say, one of my favorite parts of our relationship is his love for music and spur-of-the-moment ticket purchases for a show like this. If “Cannonball” doesn’t ring a bell by name, you’ve still heard it; it’s the song that opens A Walk to Remember, one of those early-2000s jams burned into zillenials’ memory. We got there late, but the crowd was a great mix of young and old, everyone fully jamming out. After the show wrapped, we went a block up to Jeremy’s Ale House for their takeout container beer and to catch Mexico win their World Cup match against Czechia.

Speaking of tickets worth grabbing in advance: my friend Matt is Harlem Free Fight Academy's Director of Development & Strategic Partnerships, and martial arts is the thing that genuinely raised him. He's spent years training, teaching, and writing about jiu-jitsu, and now puts that same devotion into building an organization that hands the sport down to kids who'd never otherwise have access to it. When he asked if I'd help spread the word on their biggest fundraiser of the year, it was an easy yes.

Harlem Free Fight Academy runs completely free boxing, jiu-jitsu, and Muay Thai programs for teens and young adults in Harlem, ages 13 to 21. But what they’re really doing is using the discipline of the sport as a way in — coaches who are trained in youth development as much as martial arts, mentorship that continues well past class, even help with résumés and job interviews for kids preparing for what comes after.

On August 1, they’re hosting their biggest fundraiser of the year at Convene at Brookfield Place — a beautiful, full-scale event space right on the water in Lower Manhattan, hosting an elite submission grappling showcase live and streaming nationally on FloGrappling. It’s a real night out, and every ticket and dollar raised goes directly toward keeping the program free. If you’d like to help the cause and donate, please see the link here.

2. What to wear

This week I’ve been on a closet purge kick. I almost always have a pile waiting to go to the donation box or Goodwill, but something about seeing bikinis from high school in my drawer made me want to go through every single item of clothing I own and “Marie Kondo” my closet.

I think perhaps I’m also struggling with what to wear these days between intense heat and summer storm weather. Whatever happened to 77 and sunny?!

I guess in some ways, I’ve enjoyed spectating a lot more than focusing on my own styling, particularly around the hype of the NBA finals and the World Cup. If I’m being real, most days I’m in concert merch, a trusty pair of Agolde shorts, and my croc-like Birkenstocks - not exactly doing the most. I’ve also been beaten to the punch for all of my grails on TRR and eBay, a sign of no imminent impulse purchases for me.

Other than that, I did go into Target recently and was delighted by their collaboration with Solid and Striped. I walked away with a Red Cover Up and a Blue/White Stripe Triangle Top and Bottom. While these pieces are simple, the quality is honestly great and everything is at minimum a quarter of their regular price. I’m always one for a steal. (Please ignore my janky photography, you get the idea).

The best remedy, I find, for lack of inspiration is a walk outside. I saw a woman yesterday on the subway with a gray pixie cut, oversized readers, white barrel jeans, and a bright orange structured blouse, kind of like this. It was totally fabulous, and I told her so.

3. What to read

On Sunday, I swiped a copy of The Correspondent by Virginia Evans that was sitting on my boyfriend’s desk. To be honest, I wasn’t really sold on the recommendations for the book; my mom (its core demographic) didn’t seem to love it either, but I didn’t have anything else lined up on my Libby account, so I figured I’d give it a go anyway.

About a quarter of the way in, I found this style of writing isn’t really for me. The whole novel is told through letters, with no real-time scenes, no dialogue happening in front of you, so you’re always getting the story secondhand, after the fact, through what someone chose to write down. I need to be in the moment with a character, not piecing it together after the fact through their correspondence. It’s also quirky how, at times, it feels like the main character uses her pen to attack people she wants to reproach, a pre-Twitter keyboard warrior roasting.

That said, the protagonist, Sybil, has a spunky, sharp-tongued energy that I did enjoy. But there’s something about her, a smart, independent older woman living alone, making sense of her life through letters to her brother, her best friend, even authors she admires, that reads as quite lonely to me, even though the book doesn’t frame it that way. If those were the final years of my life, I think I would hate it. I love being surrounded by people, joking around, having noise in the house, and the idea of quieting down into a life of letters instead of laughter is not at all appealing to me.

It’s possible, though, if you love a slower, reflective character study rather than racing through a plot, I can see why this one has such a following. It’s just not my speed. If anyone has a great summer reading recommendation, please drop it below in the comments.

This week, instead of the usual roundup, I’m sharing a list that has been living in my head for a while: the restaurants I would take my dad to, if I could plan the perfect series of meals for him. This weekend is always a big one in my family, since his birthday almost always lands on or right next to Father's Day, which means we're celebrating both at once, together, every year. Some of these spots we’ve been to together. Others are places I’ve discovered since and have been saving, mentally, for a birthday dinner, a milestone, a proper retirement blowout - an occasion that deserves a reservation and a bottle of something good.

These are not trendy. They are not new. Take your dad. Take your uncle. Take whoever showed up for you. Not to brag, my dad is perfect and deserves the best of the best as marked below:

Pete’s Tavern — Irving Place, Gramercy

One of the oldest bars in New York, open since 1864, Pete’s has a charm that makes it one of my favorite places to spend an afternoon in the neighborhood. Order the Fried Zucchini Chips with garlic aioli, a bucket of beer, and the mini sliders, and settle into one of the dark wooden booths. This is the kind of place your dad will love precisely because nothing about it is trying too hard. And if he loves music, take him to a show at Irving Plaza next door, why not!

Norma Gastronomia Siciliana — Kips Bay (and beyond)

My sister and I used to go here when we lived across the street, and have taken our parents several times - I will say a mouse jumped behind my mother into a planter when they had outdoor seating (but DON’T let that deter you). This restaurant is Michelin-recognized and thoroughly deserving of it. The lasagna is the kind your grandmother wished she could make. Go hungry.

Upland — Flatiron

California-inspired, Italian at heart, and reliably excellent. The California Cheeseburger made with grass-fed beef is the best kind of surprise at a restaurant that is otherwise quite refined. The room is warm and lively without being loud, which is exactly what you want when you’re trying to actually catch up. This is the nicest place you can take your dad for lunch when you’re hungover without it being obnoxious.

Chada — West Village

A genuinely exciting Thai restaurant that has been winning over everyone I send there. The Papaya Salad comes elevated with salted duck egg and dried shrimp powder, and the Crab Fried Rice is one of those dishes you think about for days afterward. I always order the duck - currently on as a Pan-Seared Duck Red Curry with bamboo shoots and grilled pineapple - but ask your server what’s in season. Tip: they cannot adjust the spice to your tolerance level, so if you’re sensitive to spice, nut up!

Pentop at The Peninsula — Midtown

While it was unquestionably cooler when it had a Southeast Asian flourish as Salon de Ning, your dad will still appreciate being able to smoke a Cuban on the terrace with one of the best views of the city. The bartenders have all been there forever, most of them since before the beige renovation, and can shake up whatever you’d like on the spot. Worth knowing: The Peninsula Hotels brand is owned and operated by The Hongkong and Shanghai Hotels, Limited, incorporated in 1866, which is why the original bar was named for Madame Ning - a nod to the building’s storied Asian roots that the current iteration has largely scrubbed away. Some things are better left alone.

Marea — Central Park South

This is the special occasion one. The Astice is braised Nova Scotia lobster served over nearly liquid burrata - it is, as one very accurate review put it, “the way to my heart.” Follow it with the Fusilli al Ragù, the signature bone marrow and octopus pasta that made Marea famous. Order a bottle of Barolo, and it will pair beautifully with anything on the table. Finish with the beignets with chocolate and dulce de leche, and a Pisco Sour to keep things moving. Plan ahead - this one is not cheap.

The Grill — Midtown East, Seagram Building

The most theatrical dining experience in New York, and one of the most historically significant rooms in the city (there’s always an afterparty here for the Met Gala), The Grill, is a love letter to mid-century American dining done with complete conviction. Order the Pasta à la Presse: duck, pheasant, and foie gras are pressed tableside using a vintage silver duck press, the juices extracted and poured over freshly made pasta. It sounds excessive, and it is. Finish your meal with The Blackberry Baked Alaska, which arrives in a tangle of blue flames. This is the dinner you bring your dad to when you want him to feel like the most important person in the room, which he is.

P.S. Many years ago, I came here and felt “off” then experienced the most ragged bout of Covid anyone on earth (still living) has ever experienced. I still consider it a 10/10 experience, and would do it again.

2. What to wear

Since this newsletter is dedicated first and foremost to NYC, I obviously had to address the Knicks’ big win. The best part of this finals season for me has been seeing everyone step out in shades of orange and blue to support the team. The creativity of the DIY projects, vintage merch, and hand-drawn designs I’ve seen parading the streets has been inspiring.

I also saw many women wearing their Knicks jerseys as dresses with kitten heels (nothing new), but I think this would be a great time to share the collection of heels I found for my friend for summer events. This list features a range of prices and styles for weddings, dates, dinners, and stepping out for the big game.

Now with the World Cup, the city has moved on to a new kind of fevered energy, just with different jerseys. Here’s my take on the best way to style yourself to support your favorite team(s):

• A couple of weeks ago at Smør, I saw the hostess wear a green jersey with Smør ironed on the front, rolled up black cotton shorts, along with a pair of Tabis - she looked comfortable and effortlessly cool.

• I also like the idea of wearing a simple shift dress like this, this, or this (in a solid color from the country you’re supporting or a neutral) and draping a flag over your shoulders. This is impossibly chic.

• Color blocking a shirt and pants and accessorizing with a bag is also an easy option. I saw a woman on the street wearing these Brooke Callahan Tie Pants in red. If you’re supporting the USA or France (personally, Mbappé all the way), pair it with a plain white tee, a blue shoulder bag, and away you go.

• My beautiful friend, Aemy, went to see Senegal vs France this week and wore a top from Mirchi by Kim, a pair of Levi’s, and a trusty pair of cowboy boots (not pictured). Festive and comfortable for the heat.

  

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3. What to read

This week I picked up Bonding by Mariel Franklin, and it might be the most unhinged book I’ve read in a while. Mary, our protagonist, is a thirty-something Londoner who loses her job, books an impulsive trip to Ibiza, sleeps with a charming chemist named Tom, and then returns home to find herself working for Lara, her volatile ex-girlfriend, who has channeled all of her ambition into a dating app. It is a lot.

What I find both compelling and maddening about Mary is her blasé relationship with her own life. Things happen to her. She lets them. I recognize that particular mode of existing - the one you slip into when you’re feeling low - but I find it frustrating to watch her navigate her way back out of it. She is an enigma, though, and that keeps me turning pages. At the heart of it, she is trying to untangle what she actually wants from her relationships and her life, which is a harder question than it sounds, and one I understand the difficulty of perhaps more than I’d like to admit. The mess is thrilling. Zadie Smith loved it, for what it’s worth.

I’m spending the rest of the day outside reading and am excited to finish this one.

Last Thursday, I took my boyfriend to Bathhouse’s newest location on Atlantic Avenue, which has been open for only a couple of weeks. I booked the last slot of the night ($81.52 for two people, not terrible), which meant we luckily walked into a space with maybe twenty people in it, moving between the three thermal pools, the steam room, the sauna, and the banya. While my boyfriend is a dry-heat person and I am a steam person, we found common ground in the neutral pool at 98°F.

The space is beautiful in that way, new things are before they’ve been worn in. We did have a laugh about whether they “discovered” the tiles depicting Chinese warriors on the back wall before signing the lease, but otherwise, the design choices follow the sort of modern industrial aesthetic of the older locations.

Crossing Atlantic Avenue, depending on where you’re coming from, can feel like a bit dicey because of the onslaught of traffic, but the moment you’re inside, that changes. I felt my shoulders drop within minutes, and we stayed for a full two hours. Having been to their NoMad and Williamsburg locations, there’s something noticeably more intimate and peaceful about Atlantic Avenue that I hope they manage to hold onto.

On Tuesday, I caught a screening of Trainspotting at Angelika with my Dad and brother in celebration of the 30th anniversary of the film. My favorite scene to this day is still when Renton dives into the toilet bowl of “Scotland’s worst bathroom” to retrieve his heroin suppositories. Weird movie to bond over (what with the heroin use and flagrant violence), but the three of us were in stitches, laughing out loud at the gang's wisecracks and deranged antics. If you haven’t seen it, it’s the perfect hour and 33-minute break from the heat. While the concession stand is totally overpriced, I love their mini popcorn bags and the café on the top floor.

On Wednesday, I had a packed evening, which started at Aula Gym on Mulberry Street for ’s Fashion Summit (more on that later).

The main event, however, besides the Knicks game, was catching a show at Brooklyn Steel to see Kevin Morby. Before heading to the venue, we stopped into Peek Inn, which is exactly what it sounds like - close quarters, a definitive IYKYK neighborhood spot. It was packed with people gearing up for the Knicks game, which added to the fun but also made ordering at the bar tricky.

We got hot dogs with sauerkraut, obviously, and I complemented it with a rum runner, topped with a maraschino cherry and lime wedge. Talk about “finding your beach!” I didn’t get to try the shrimp cocktail or the ‘funeral sandwiches’ - tiny cubano-like rolls with ham and cheese -, but if I ever end up on that far out stretch of Driggs Ave, I will certainly be testing them out.

I’ll be honest, I hadn’t listened to much Kevin Morby before walking into Brooklyn Steel, but it was almost better that way. My favorite moment of the night had nothing to do with the setlist. Kevin invited a very rock and roll looking man - Nick something, I never caught his last name - and his young daughter up onto the stage. They proceeded to absolutely rip through 1,000 Times by Leithauser and Rostam together. The daughter looked terrified, but the crowd (myself included) was delighted. Rock on to whoever that guy is.

I also loved that no one had a phone out except to record the saxophone solo, which earned its documentation - one of the most unhinged, joyful, genuinely jaw-dropping solos I’ve seen at a live show.

2. What to wear

Last week, I found out about Emilia Petrarca’s Fashion Summit in collaboration with Systemarosa and Nike and immediately signed up. The event consisted of three panels on the intersection of sports and fashion: “The ESPN-ification of Fashion,” “What Does an Athlete Look Like?” and “We’re All Stans Now.” I wanted to go because I’ve admired her writing for a while and wanted to see how that translated in-person. I left thinking a lot, which is the sign of any good event.

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To take a step back, here’s where I land on athletic wear: I wear my old t-shirts and leggings to the gym and rarely think twice about it. The cost of “looking the part” adds up fast, and buying a new set to rotate in every month is genuinely expensive. I once heard Mrs. Dow Jones say she doesn’t believe in buying trendy workout clothes, and I’ve lived by that ever since. She’s de-influenced a lot of non-essential purchases out of my life and pointed me toward a high-yield savings account instead.

I also just can’t stand clutter. I have enough gear for a week of workouts, and I believe that Dad’s old college t-shirt is a perfectly good shirt to hit reps in. If I’m going to a gym full of retirees who are paying zero attention to what I’m wearing, why would I spend $200 on a matching set? Truthfully, though, if I did go to a gym where I wanted to be “seen,” I think I’d still show up in my old threads.

After the second panel, I raised my hand to ask a question - I asked whether they’re seeing commercial brands experiment more with natural fibers like wool for performance wear. The panelists looked at me like I had asked about something slightly beside the point, made a gentle joke about still needing Dri-FIT, and moved on. Fair enough. I think I was angling for a more practical conversation about what people actually wear day to day, which may have been more Panel 3 territory - and I had to leave before Panel 3, so the jury is still out.

What I didn’t expect was that a woman named Anne came up to me following my question and told me she has her own brand where she turns old, damaged sweaters and scrap yarn into one-of-a-kind knits. She was wearing a beautiful gray, blue, and orange crop top she had knitted herself for the occasion.

This gesture was a lovely reminder of why I make a point of showing up to these things and why I'm not afraid to put my hand up and ask a question, even when the room looks at me a little sideways. You never know who's sitting next to you. Anne’s Instagram is @nextseason.nyc, and I am already a fan.

One thing I kept turning over in my head afterward: the summit was powered by Nike. One of the largest athletic wear companies on earth, whose representatives understandably want to feature prominently in conversations about the future of sport and fashion. I haven’t bought anything from Nike in over ten years, which I didn’t think about until I was sitting in the room.

I wonder if these conversations could make more space for sustainability - or whether we’ve moved on as society from that as a talking point. The ESPN-ification of fashion feels real to me, and not entirely in a good way. Not everything needs to be a moment. Women, especially, are pressured to show up somewhere new in something new, particularly in a city like New York, and while not everyone operates under that weight, the pressure is still palpable.

Which brings me back to the question I probably should have asked instead of the one about wool: can a company be enormous and genuinely do good at the same time? Patagonia’s founder has spent decades trying to prove that it’s possible. I’m still not sure what Nike’s answer is. Maybe that’s a panel for next time.

On a related note, a shoutout to Mayor Mamdani, who dropped something worth celebrating this week. In his own words: “Made by New Yorkers, for New Yorkers.” His office released a limited run of handmade NYC World Cup jerseys at $50, produced by Mazzi, an immigrant, multigenerational studio in Bed-Stuy that has been making apparel for the city for nearly 50 years. Bold graphics, a pigeon, a soccer ball, three colorways - and only available in person at the City Store on Centre Street.

At a tournament where official FIFA merchandise runs up to $375, and game tickets have priced out most ordinary New Yorkers, a $50 handmade jersey feels like a small act of defiance. The World Cup is happening in our backyard, and a lot of us are watching it through a window. This was one way of at least letting people in.

It is exactly the kind of thing the Sports and Fashion Summit should have been talking about - accessible, local, intentional. Bravo Mamdani!

Lastly, in honor of the Knicks, I wanted to put together an outfit subtly inspired by Anne’s look on what I would wear (from my dream closet) to watch the game tomorrow. Super easy styling and a pop of color, maybe you’d want to swap out heels for sneakers, but this and a cold beer, and I’m ready to go!

3. What to read

This week, I picked up Heart the Lover by Lily King on Audible after spotting it in the window at Greenlight Books and seeing recommendations for it on my Kindle.

The book is divided into three parts, each one shifting in pace and register. The first is immediate and sensory, sprawling across the college years - the second compresses time almost brutally - a single day and night. The third expands again, pulling all the threads together for a final reckoning that I'm told is devastating. Admittedly, haven't gotten there yet, but I’m learning that I can tear through a book much faster when I’m reading, not listening. Speeding up the audio doesn’t really help either.

The long first section covers the college years - exuberant, saturated with 1980s songs and theme parties and the particular intoxication of being young and literary and convinced that everything matters. The narrator, an aspiring writer who entered college on a golf scholarship, falls in with two brilliant English majors named Sam and Yash. They nickname her Jordan, after Jordan Baker in The Great Gatsby, which tells you the kind of intellectual atmosphere she’s swimming in. A love triangle ignites. Feelings shift. The latter sections jump ahead decades to when Jordan is settled, married, and living in Maine with her husband and children. And then the great love of her youth reappears in her life.

To be honest, it was hard to get into this one. I have trouble with audiobooks when the narrating voice doesn’t match the voice in my head, and that can poison the whole thing, no matter how good the prose. This was a close call, but the story was compelling enough for me to keep listening. I also think I tend to miss things more easily over audio since I usually listen when I’m on the go. It might be best consumed on a paperback during a long train ride or sitting by a lake.

If you like collegiate romance stories and how they unfold thereafter, this is the book for you.

To set the scene, Scott and Andriana got married in a villa perched on a hilltop in Sintra that was once a monastery and is now a family home passed down through generations. As a (very lucky) member of the bridal party, I got to spend a few days soaking in the beauty of the surroundings and the weight of history that lingers throughout the property.

I couldn’t be happier for the newlyweds, and I am still in awe of the spectacular events they organized to celebrate their marriage. Every detail was immaculate, and it speaks to the thoughtful, warm, and outrageously fun couple that they are. Cheers to the Winkoffs!

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1. Where to go

On Memorial Day, to shake off the post-wedding hangover, my boyfriend and I drove along Portugal’s southwest coast to find a beachside lunch spot. We first stopped by Azenhas do Mar, to check out the cliffside view and comfortable lounge bar. While the atmosphere was breathtaking, we decided to make our way to Maré for lunch, where Chef José Avillez was serving up outstanding traditional Portuguese fare.

Sitting on a bluff, in Caiscais, the location alone was a winner but if I ever find myself in that stretch of beach again, I’m coming back for the kitchen’s clams with garlic butter and coriander, “dark rice” with bacon bits, percebes (Portuguese goose barnacles) and their red seafood stew with octopus, clams, and pieces of white fileted fish. The delicate, although dinosaur-looking Percebes were such an amazing treat, and something typically only available in that wave-battered slice of the Atlantic.

That night after settling into our Airbnb, we met up with friends at Boavista Social Club, a tiny bar known for spinning vinyl, a tightly edited wine list, and DJ parties. Since it was a Monday night, the energy was tame, but I’d be curious to go back when it’s in full action.

A couple of nights later, we tried out Prado Wine Bar, which came courtesy of my friend Sammy, whom I trust as an authority on all things good food and good wine. He pointed us toward Prado, the Michelin-recognized restaurant from chef António Galapito, but we ended up spending the evening next door at Prado Wine Bar instead, as they were fully booked. I neglected to take a photo of the menu, which rotates frequently anyway, but every dish managed to leave an impression. There were wood ear mushrooms in a Dijon-miso sauce, oysters, rich pork belly, and a selection of cheeses that felt non-negotiable.

What struck me most was the intensity of the flavors. Nothing on the menu was particularly large or elaborate, but every plate delivered far more than its size suggested. By the time our friends arrived for a nightcap, we were ready to trade our seats at the bar for a nearby park, joining a crowd of locals who had gathered with beers and wine purchased from a small kiosk down the street. If you're looking for an authentic Lisbon experience, I'd recommend doing exactly that.

My favorite casual meal of the trip was at Patife Pizzeria & Wine Bar, a tiny spot tucked into Lisbon that looks like it could be transplanted directly onto Orchard Street. Stainless steel countertops, candles hardened with layers of dripped wax, music humming through the room, and just enough tables squeezed into two adjoining dining rooms to make you feel like you’ve discovered something.

We started with a zucchini pizza topped with a generous scoop of burrata and anchovies served on the side. The combination was perfect: creamy, salty, and bright. Not content with one pizza, we also ordered the nduja pie with red sauce, cheese, and a drizzle of hot honey, which disappeared embarrassingly fast.

For dessert, we shared a banoffee trifle layered with crumbled Biscoff cookies, caramelized banana, and whipped cream. I normally shy away from banana-related desserts, but it seems to be a “thing” in Lisbon, and this blew my mind.

In terms of non-food-related adventures, I was very excited to visit the Museu Mediros Almeida. The building dates to 1896 and passed through several hands over the decades, including a stint as the Papal Nunciature, aka the ecclesiastical equivalent of a foreign embassy, and was eventually acquired in 1943 by António Medeiros e Almeida, who transformed it into his private residence.

Medeiros e Almeida was a prominent Portuguese entrepreneur, aviation pioneer, and art collector. Medeiros e Almeida had a massive impact on several industries in Portugal, but most notably for pioneering civil aviation in Portugal, founding the airline SATA, and acquiring the airline Aero Portuguesa before its merger into TAP.

In the early 1970s, he decided to leave it as a house-museum in Portugal, adding a new wing to display his decorative arts collection. He and his wife then moved next door, where they lived out the rest of their lives. Whenever I visit a city, I try to go to at least one prominent figure’s house, and you know what, they ALL collected the same arts decoratifs - but seeing how they shaped their homes around that shared passion is always interesting.

2. What to wear

The welcome party called for color, and the group delivered. I wore a vintage Halston one-strap dress from The RealReal that I had been staring at for months before finally pulling the trigger. I'll admit I was skeptical about the shimmer on the straps - it felt like it could go either way - but it ended up working. Andriana, our radiant bride, wore an Acler gown that was the perfect contrast: structured, elegant, and sleek.

The dress code for bridesmaids was sage green. I found this Bec + Bridge number in pistachio. I wanted something not too structured that would feel breezy in the heat. I accessorized with a marquise choker from The M Jewelers, a Vintage Gold Swatch pilfered from my mother ages ago, and pear-shaped drop earrings from Etsy.

My boyfriend wore a handsome Todd Snyder Linen Suit that he had tailored in-store - and looked very dashing, I’ll admit.

A special mention goes to our friend, Komal, who officiated the ceremony in a custom tuxedo-style suit made at Dalya in Soho, adorned with pins and earrings she found at a Brooklyn flea market. It was the perfect counterpoint to all the florals and sage - what a knockout!

Shopping-wise, when we arrived in Lisbon, we checked out Avenida da Liberdade, which is Lisbon’s answer to the Champs-Élysées. At Adolfo Dominguez, a Spanish luxury fashion brand, I immediately fell for this Scarf Collar Print Dress. It looks abstract on the hanger, but I have my eye on it for events later this summer.

Later in the week, we ducked into Esteoeste, a concept store for antiques, home decor, clothes, and accessories. Also, the kind of place that feels like someone’s very well-traveled living room. I was particularly drawn to the loungewear: long, drapey cotton robes that felt like exactly what you’d want to wear after a long afternoon in the sun. I also browsed the various patchwork quilted vests that were completely impractical and very tempting. The tote bag situation in there was also not lost on me.

On our second-to-last day in Lisbon, we spent an afternoon at the Calouste Gulbenkian Museum, and I left wondering how I had never heard of this man before. Born in 1869 to an Armenian family in Constantinople, Gulbenkian became one of the wealthiest people on earth through oil, famously earning the nickname “Mr. Five Percent” for always retaining a five percent stake in every oil company he helped develop. He eventually settled in Lisbon during the Second World War, remaining there until his death in 1955, and bequeathed his entire collection and fortune to a foundation in the city. The result is one of the most extraordinary museums I have ever walked through, both in terms of design and collections - spanning ancient Egyptian artifacts, Flemish masters, Islamic art, and René Lalique glass, all assembled by one man with an obsessive eye.

What I did not expect was to turn a corner and find a red Halston gown in the collection, part of a fashion exhibition featuring Jean Paul Gaultier, Alaïa, Thierry Mugler, and others. I had just worn my own vintage Halston to the welcome party two nights before. It felt like the trip was winking at me.

I’ve since started reading about Halston more seriously. A designer who died far too soon, and whose work clearly had more of a legacy than I realized. More on that in a future edition.

On our last full day walking around, I dropped into Zula Jewelry and found this multicolored fish pendant and blue stone choker, which I promptly wore to our send-off lunch at Irmão Beach Club. I got my mom a matching bracelet and am surprised the quality held up - as far as costume jewelry goes - with all the sunscreen and moisturizer I’d applied.

Also, shoutout to the beautiful Raffia Bucket Hat that my boyfriend got for me at Adolfo Dominguez. This, paired with my Le Specs Classic Tortoise Glasses (thanks, Bella xx), provided all the shade this pale girl needed under the UV-8 sun. My bikini is an old Solid & Striped collection from my friend Andriana. For a similar look, I’m really liking this set they have online now in Colorblock Stripe: top, bottom.

After this trip, seeing the tiles and the Jacaranda trees and all that color everywhere I looked, I want to bring more of it home with me.

3. What to read

If you saw my most recent note on Substack, you’ll know that I attempted to read Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew. While I found it genuinely funny, it’s not exactly beach reading. Every page requires a level of concentration that feels incompatible with airport lounges and SPF 50.

Instead, on my flight home from Portugal, I picked up Honey, the debut novel by Imani Thompson. I found it through Dua Lipa’s book club, Service95, and, if you know me, you know I’ll follow just about any recommendation that woman and her team put in front of me.

The novel follows Yrsa, a brilliant but deeply frustrated PhD student at Cambridge who commits an act of violence and discovers she likes the feeling a little too much. What starts as a shocking accident quickly spirals into something darker, stranger, and, at times, hilarious.

One of the things I enjoyed most about the book is that Yrsa isn’t written as a hero. She’s impulsive, self-righteous, and often difficult to root for, yet somehow remains compelling. As the story progresses, her confidence begins to crack. Whether she’s experiencing guilt, grief, or simply the physical toll of her actions is left deliberately murky.

Lately, I’ve found myself drawn to stories about female villains, and this one delivered. I support women’s rights and wrongs, at least in literature.

Last Friday, three of my friends and I made our way up to Serena’s Wine Bar on the Upper East Side, which has the kind of candlelit, lived-in charm that makes you want to order another glass before you’ve finished the first. The company was great. The food left a bit to be desired. First, we ordered a charcuterie board to share that arrived with three — count them, three — pieces of salami for a table of four. One of us is vegetarian, which is the only reason there wasn’t a scene lol. Aside from that, we separately ordered an arugula salad with parmesan, sweet potato gnocchi, and I went for a French onion soup. The soup was the right call. The rest I’d file under “the vibe is doing a lot of work here.”We didn’t linger on it.

After dinner, we went our separate ways, and I headed downtown to Upstairs Bar on Canal Street. My boyfriend and his friends had been joking around at Forgetmenot, as per usual, and it was already late when I arrived, so they suggested we go around the corner to karaoke. I wasn’t fully prepared for it in the moment, but I do want to go on record saying it might be my favorite karaoke bar in the city. Not because of any one thing, but because of the crowd. On a Friday night, you get Chinatown locals on their night off, NYU students, recent grads, investment bankers standing next to their freewheeling bosses — all of them equally committed to Carrie Underwood and Bruno Mars. Some karaoke bars offer private rooms, which I understand, but I think the whole point is the strangers. We drank beer, we watched, we cheered. It was a perfect night.

Two nights ago, my boyfriend took me to dinner at Aita in Fort Greene and, in a very “let’s just make it work” turn of events, we ended up sitting outside under their pergola. The restaurant was completely packed inside, and while it was definitely windier than ideal (and notably heat-lamp free, disastrous for someone as prone to cold as I am), I honestly didn’t mind. There’s something kind of charming about committing to outdoor dining a little too early in the season, convincing yourself you’re fine every time a gust of wind comes through. Besides, once the food started arriving, being cold became pretty irrelevant.

To start, we ordered a gnocchi with chopped asparagus, ramps, and a delicate pesto, alongside a creamy burrata topped with green pesto oil, tomatoes, and thin slices of prosciutto. I know burrata has become a bit of a cliché at this point — a few years ago, it felt like every restaurant in New York was racing to put their own version on the menu — but Aita reminded me why people became obsessed with it in the first place. The produce tasted unbelievably fresh, and I genuinely wanted more of everything the second we finished our dinner.

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Okay, technically, The Met Cloisters is in Upper Manhattan’s Fort Tryon Park, but it’s essentially the Bronx. Anyway, I took my cousin and her fiancé there this past Tuesday, who were visiting from Orlando. As a New York resident, I was able to let my guests and myself in for whatever number I wished to donate, pretty neat! Normally, at the Met Fifth Avenue, I hand them any cash I have in my wallet (don’t tell on me!).

I love this museum so much because it is a stunning combination of original medieval European architecture, blooming gardens, and fascinating works of art.

The Unicorn Rests in a Garden is my favorite piece in the museum. This tapestry, thought to have been made as a standalone work rather than part of a series, depicts a unicorn resting in a garden, tethered to a pomegranate tree. What I love about it is that he isn't really trapped at all — the fence is low, the chain is loose, and he could leave whenever he wanted. The red on his flank isn't blood but pomegranate juice, and in medieval tradition every element surrounding him — the ripe fruit, the wild orchid, the thistle — was a symbol of fertility and marriage. The whole scene is essentially a lush, quiet love poem.

I first came here on a field trip in middle school. I have since gone to seek out more unicorns at the Musée de Cluny, only to learn this time around that the famous Unicorn Tapestries at The Met Cloisters in New York are not from the same set or collection as the “Lady and the Unicorn” tapestries in Paris; they just look very similar.

While both are 15th/16th-century masterpieces featuring unicorns, they are distinct sets with different subjects, designs, and origins. I learned that both were likely produced in the Southern Netherlands or France around the same time (c. 1495–1505) and share the millefleurs (”thousand flowers”) style but he Met Cloisters (New York) houses “The Hunt of the Unicorn” (7 tapestries) and the Musée de Cluny (Paris) houses “The Lady and the Unicorn” (6 tapestries), widely considered to represent the senses. As my boyfriend says with a funny grin, “Every day’s a school day!”

This is totally worth the trip and easy to reach on the 1 or A lines. They even have a café facing into the Trie Cloister, in other words, a gorgeous garden in bloom.

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Tuesday night was an unseasonably warm evening. Perfect for Cinco de Mayo celebrations (if that’s your persuasion). I met up with my boyfriend at Black Forest in Fort Greene for dinner, where it was teeming with people ordering pretzels, brats, beer, and of course, a rogue margarita or two. We ordered a chicken schnitzel with mashed potatoes and a bratwurst on a pretzel bun with shoestring fries to share. These guys do not play when it comes to their pretzels or brats. This might’ve been the best schnitzel in town, very close competition to my beloved Shoo Shoo. Most of the tables were reserved, and we were able to snag two stools by the window, which was perfect for some people watching. We ended the night with a sweet treat at Candor Candy across the way. They had a mix of Swedish and American candies. I loved the “red pencils,” small red gummy candies with a white center. It seems like more and more of these candy shops are opening across the city, but I’m not complaining; they also sell a variety of jams, chips, and other giftable surprises along their wall in true Candy “Shoppy Shop” form.

2. What to wear

For this week’s style section, I want to take you on a digest of the Met Gala. The theme this year was “Fashion is Art.” Since there were a million looks, I’m going to single out a few of my favorites and some disasters.

Starting with Sabrina Carpenter. Sabrina cheekily pays homage to Audrey Hepburn’s 1954 film Sabrina in a full-body wrap of rhinestone film strips. (If you zoom in, maybe you can see film stills of stars Humphrey Bogart and William Holden.) This was fun, playful, and the perfect nod to “film as art.” No notes.

Naomi Osaka’s two-part look was sensational. Vanity Fair did a deep dive that is worth perusing. They note, “the thinking wasn’t aquatic or animalistic, but rather, entirely and almost viscerally human: the body, undoing itself mid-carpet from skin or shell to muscle and tendon. To blood, really …. uncovering a filament-red, fitted dress made of beadwork.” Allow me this stretch, but something about it made me think about the evil Saja Boys from KPOP Demon Hunters - tell me her big hat and long nails don’t make you think of them…

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1. Where to go

This week I stayed in SoHo and, let’s just say, I really stimulated the economy. Lol

Starting last Friday, I had lunch with my dad and sister at Chada Thai. We shared the papaya salad (no actual papaya, for those who find that fruit…polarizing), crab fried rice, and duck in a green curry sauce. The flavors were incredible: lime, mint, garlic, and a few notes I couldn’t quite place but kept going back for. One thing to note: they don’t adjust spice levels, but as someone who is generally a bit of a baby about heat, I was totally fine.

During the week, I met my sister, Ana, at Kazunori for a quick lunch in between her classes at NYU. She initially wanted to grab something from Sushi Counter (which people have been raving about), but I’m a bit of a stickler for service—sorry, I know. Kazunori is always fresh, efficient, and unfussy. My favorite roll is always the blue crab in the 4-piece set.

On Friday, I met my boyfriend at Carlota for a few bites before heading to Metrograph to see The Long Goodbye, a 70s crime drama. While I do love Carlota (I’ve even hosted a work holiday party there), we were unfortunately seated next to a group of ten men celebrating a birthday who more or less took over the entire room. I loved their energy, but we were definitely a bit squished. The standout dish is, without question, the jamón serrano croquetas. That said, I was slightly disappointed that the jamón on their charcuterie board isn’t sliced fresh—yes, I have standards. I will say, though, I’ve always loved Bar Belly, their sister bar next door, and it’s consistently a fun time.

Saturday, my friend Sofia and I braved the pouring rain for a night out. We started at Felix Roasting Co., where we were told upon entering that the kitchen was closed, but somehow managed to sneak in an order of steak tartare with fries alongside our Negronis. When we were leaving, I realized someone had taken my umbrella. As we stepped outside, Sofia heard someone call out “Diego” and spotted my umbrella across the street. In the most hilarious exchange, Diego very clearly knew he’d been caught—he smiled, and without much resistance, swapped it back with me for one of the last sad umbrellas left in the pile at the restaurant. Justice was served.

After making the rounds at La Esquina and Bar Louie (shoutout Nigel), we ended the night at Employees Only. No bone broth this time—seems to be more of a winter closing ritual—but still one of the better late-night soups I’ve had, especially at 4am.

Sunday was for a reset. Ana and I had planned to try walking into Emmett’s on Grove for pizza, but on the way we stumbled into I Sodi and somehow grabbed a table on their patio. It was a little chilly, but their outdoor heaters are perfect—warm without that slightly alarming singe some places have. We ordered burrata, bread with jewel olives, lasagna, and asparagus with mushrooms. Ana loves lasagna, and watching her try this for the first time honestly made the whole dinner. Since it is literally a lasagna mountain, it was also the next day’s lunch.

On Tuesday, I met my friend Komal for lunch, who treated me to Sullivan Taqueria. We split the Oaxacan cheese quesadilla and the chorizo beef quesadilla, and both agreed the beef had way more punch. While I love cheese (probably my favorite thing to eat), the cheese quesadilla came with guac that kind of dulled the flavor. We were hoping for more of a scalding-hot, melty cheese situation like a queso fundido.

Later that evening, my friend Claire was in town from Charleston, so we planned a girls’ dinner at Sushi by M. They offer a $69 omakase or $100 (and you have the option to add on at the end), which is one of the better deals in the city. We split a bottle of sake and were even offered tequila shots by the chefs, who seemed very entertained by our catching up. They invited us to karaoke, which felt both chaotic and tempting, but since it was a Tuesday, we kept things relatively tame. I’ve been a few times now, and it consistently delivers. My favorite piece is probably the amberjack or the seared wagyu with uni.

2. What to wear

This week’s Menswear edit is inspired by my trip with my boyfriend to Todd Snyder in Flatiron. He had his eye on the Madison Linen Suit, and luckily, they had it in stock. The service was incredibly warm and helpful, and they had him measured for a custom fit. Below is my version of how I would style the suit for summer weddings:

Why the tinted sunscreen, you may ask. Men want to look nice in photos, too! Also, as beautiful as the suit is on its own, I really like the added detail of a brooch (Ginkgo also happens to be my favorite tree). This Oscar de la Renta brooch also caught my eye; worn vertically or horizontally, it adds just the right amount of visual interest.

Speaking of custom suiting, this week I had the pleasure of accompanying my friend, Komal, to Dalya in Soho. Dalya is a store that offers fully customizable clothing for women, by women. You can pick all the design details of your perfect piece, from fabric to buttons, lining, pockets and more. All the fabric is sourced from mills in Italy and England. I’m talking QUALITY. What’s great is that after your first fitting, where every piece is made to your unique body, you can shop online for future purchases.

The owner, Farida, guided Komal through the different available suit cuts, fabric/lining/button options, and artfully took her measurements. I wish I had a picture of the process to show you, but every step was an exciting decision to make something unique. I can’t wait to see Komal in the custom suit when she officiates our best friend, Andriana’s, wedding at the end of the month in Portugal!

The next look I wanted to share this week originally came together after seeing this Zara top and Gimaguas skirt. But after sitting with the edit a bit longer, it didn’t quite feel like me - can’t remember the last time I’ve worn a short skirt, and as you know, I’m more of a second-hand girlie - Vestiaire, TRR, Depop, Ebay, etc. The studs are adorable, though, so I figured I would share. The look I’m going for is beach meets summer city sidewalks.

3. What to read

This week I downloaded Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir and let me just say—I am absolutely eating it up. It helps to have Ryan Gosling as the visual for the protagonist (apparently I’m not alone in this), but honestly, I did not expect to love a sci-fi book this much. I usually gravitate toward memoirs and family dramas, so this is totally out of left field for me.

The book follows Ryland Grace, a former middle school science teacher who wakes up alone on a spaceship with no memory, slowly piecing together that he’s been sent on a last-ditch mission to save Earth from an extinction-level threat by a microorganism that’s draining the sun’s energy. The structure flips between his present-day survival in space and flashbacks that reveal how he got there, which keeps things moving at a pace that is cinematic.

Despite most of the science going slightly over my head, Andy Weir writes it in a way that feels surprisingly digestible—like you’re solving the problems alongside him rather than being talked at. Ryland is this very specific kind of protagonist: scrappy, a little neurotic, unexpectedly funny, constantly engineering his way out of impossible situations. Don’t worry, no spoilers as I haven’t finished the book myself yet.

What I didn’t anticipate was how immersive it would feel. It genuinely feels like I’m stuck in the spaceship with him, which is both thrilling and slightly claustrophobic. Although I will say, Ryland might be just a touch too chipper for someone who is, objectively, alone in space and possibly never coming back. But maybe that’s the point.

Now that the weather has turned, I’ve been bopping between Lower Manhattan and Brooklyn with little to no plan—just following the sun, a drink, or whoever texts first. This week felt especially full in the best way: long afternoons that turn into dinner, and dinners that, mostly sloppily, turn into a party.

Last Friday felt like the first real spring day—75 and sunny—so naturally, we all found ourselves at Time Again for a few hours of warm weather and top-tier people watching. The plastic stools leave something to be desired, but the outdoor setup is unmatched, and the crowd is always friendly, unbothered, and happily bumping elbows. It’s one of those places that feels playful every time (which explains why I’m there nearly every weekend once the weather turns).

My drink order is usually a spritz, or a Peroni—this time, the table was littered with both. We also ordered what I like to call a prosciutto mountain: delicate slices piled over perfectly baked bread with olive oil. I stand by this as a near-perfect snack. It easily beats the prosciutto-and-chip tower at Ernesto’s—no contest.

After a few rounds, we went in search of dinner and somehow lucked into bar seating for six at Wayla. The crab fried rice was incredible, served with a slightly spicy green sauce that didn’t stand a chance. No photos—too busy eating—but Sammy ordered a sizzling steak that was cooked and seasoned perfectly—a reminder not to let a lack of reservation stop you from a great meal.

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Saturday brought me to Park Slope for what can only be described as a legendary backyard crayfish boil. My friends Lindsay and Mark truly went all out—a giant pot of crayfish simmering alongside potatoes, sausage, and even pineapple. I’m mildly intimidated by the tiny creatures, but the seasoning was so good I kept going back (mainly for the sausage, if we’re being honest). It’s a tradition carried over from Mark’s Lambda days—happy it’s made its way to Brooklyn.

On the way back into Manhattan, we made a quick stop (predictably) at Time Again before heading to dinner at Shoo Shoo—a longtime favorite. I split the chicken schnitzel with my friend Sofia, which I order without fail. We added babaganoush and hummus to the table and called it a perfect, easy dinner.

From there, we wandered over to Broome Street Project for a nightcap, but it was still a little early for the crowd. We pivoted to Ketchy Shuby for espresso martinis, where we met some entertaining characters and lingered at the bar. No energy left for a proper night out—it was home after that.

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I’ve been keeping things ~relatively~ low-key this past week after getting hit with a gnarly cold-meets-allergy situation last Wednesday—so ease has been the priority.

Last Friday, after returning a pair of jeans I didn’t love at Levi’s in Soho, I wanted something quick and comforting before heading to my boyfriend’s place in Brooklyn. I immediately thought of Momoya Soho—I hadn’t been in over a year and was curious if it would hold up. (It does.)

I ordered a jasmine tea, miso soup, tempura with shrimp and vegetables (served with a salty maca powder dip, plus ikura, amberjack, and uni nigiri. I always thought maca was a tea, but to my surprise, I guess it can also be used as a seasoning.

I sat at the bar, where the service was warm and attentive, with a mix of regulars and first-timers flowing in and out. I always forget they have such a great outdoor setup—on Prince Street, no less—so next time I’ll make a point to sit outside for the people-watching alone.

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Feeling a bit better, Saturday unfolded a bit more spontaneously. I texted my friend Logan—who is perpetually in motion (recent NYC Marathon finisher, casually)—and after one of her long runs along the West Side Highway, she mentioned heading down to Old Mates Pub in the Seaport. I took the subway from Fort Greene to meet her, we got ready at her place, and made our way downtown.

I’ve been curious about Old Mate’s for what feels like years—partly because of its connection to the Beyond the Pale crew on Spring Street (a former Thursday night haunt of mine), and partly because of the steady stream of DJ sets and pop-ups they’ve hosted. By the time we arrived around 3 pm, it was already packed. The outdoor area was full, and inside, a sea of twenty- and thirty-somethings crowded around a massive circular wooden bar.

We met friends at a high-top, but between the closed windows (that really felt like they should’ve been open) and the sheer volume of people, the air inside was…less than fresh. Logan and I tried ordering from the bar, waited far too long, then tried rerouting through a server—only to be told we needed to order from a table. At that point, we pivoted.

To their credit, the space itself is sprawling—three distinct levels, including a string-lit, slightly chaotic basement and a more polished restaurant upstairs. Downstairs, we finally managed to grab drinks (skinny margaritas), but by then I was ready for fresh air.

So we regrouped, and I cabbed up to Chinatown to meet my boyfriend at Forget Me Not—a much-needed reset. I ordered (another) margarita, which turned out to be the sleeper hit of the day: bright, citrusy, made with real lime, almost like an adult lemonade. One turned into a few as we grabbed an outdoor table and settled in with wings and fries while the afternoon stretched on, and more friends joined in.

The wings were excellent, perfectly spiced. The fries, unfortunately, didn’t quite hold their own (a bit limp, topped with feta that divided the table). Noted for next time: if it’s fries you’re after, head a few blocks over to Le Dive—their bistro fries are reliably McDonald’s-level in the best way.

Looking ahead, I’m planning a quieter counterpoint this weekend with a visit to Smør. I recently discovered they have an outpost in Clinton Hill, and I fully intend to camp out for a cardamom bun and Danish pancakes. I used to go to their East Village location when I lived in Kips Bay, so this feels like a bit of a homecoming. Scandi girl that I am.

2. What to wear

Last week, my friend Maire texted me for help pulling looks for an upcoming work trip to Miami for the Miami Grand Prix. If you’ve never been (or, like me, mostly follow from afar), it’s less “race weekend” and more full-blown spectacle—three days of events orbiting the track at Hard Rock Stadium, with a mix of paddock club hospitality, brand activations, late-night parties, and a surprisingly serious dress code depending on where you land. It’s hot, it’s humid, and you’re often toggling between outdoor sun and heavily air-conditioned interiors.

Maire mentioned she’d be on-site for a few days, plus a handful of client dinners—so the idea was to find looks that are: polished but practical, heat-conscious, and cool without trying too hard. She already had a few anchor pieces she wanted to build around, and was mostly looking for the right top layer, shoe, or statement piece to tie everything together.

I ended up putting together a lookbook that balances “working the event” with something a bit more directional—lightweight tailoring, easy dresses that hold their shape in the heat, and shoes that can actually handle being on your feet all day. The look below is for an easy day-to-night transition, from the race track to the dinner res.

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More often than not, I find myself in the back of a car on the way to Public Records. At least once a month. It’s the most reliable place I know for a friendly crowd, great DJs, and people who are actually there to hang out and vibe into the early hours.

There are two main rooms open late. One is lit up red, a little more pop-leaning. The other, which opens out to the courtyard where everyone inevitably gathers for a cigarette, is the one I always gravitate toward. It has these enormous vaulted ceilings, tons of plants, and little pockets of seating carved throughout. The DJs there tend to play more accessible dance music, the kind you can sway to for hours, or at least until 4 am when they politely kick you out.

That said, as much as I love it, something needs to change at the bar. Everything is very “natural.” I once ordered a Coke and was handed soda water mixed with cola syrup, which I still think about ~negatively. The beer leans aggressively hoppy, to the point where it’s hard to finish one. Most nights I stick to water, or if I’m feeling ambitious, a Paloma, though even those can be hit or miss depending on who’s making it. The bouncers gave my boyfriend 3 free drink tokens (and a big high five) this weekend for naming 3 Creed songs. Gladly, no money was spent on their terrible beer.

Last Saturday, we ended up at Public Records after stopping by The Black Rabbit in Greenpoint. They have a nice outdoor setup, and it was good for catching up with my boyfriend’s friends, but it felt a little too quiet for me. Almost no music, or at least none that I could hear. I was ready for something with more energy.

After a quick stop at a friend’s apartment, we made our way down to Gowanus and, by chance, ran into another friend of mine already at Public Records. Perfect, effortless New York overlap. Time flew by as it tends to do there, and we left around 3:30 am.

Earlier in the week, on Wednesday, a friend was given a bunch of free tickets to a Yankees game against the Oakland Athletics. We got there early and settled into our seats with hot dogs and chicken tenders. My sister Ana and my friend Andriana tried the lobster roll ($24.99) and gave it a strong endorsement. It honestly looked pretty good, but for that price, I’ll wait till I’m at least near a beach.

I don’t really consider myself someone who follows baseball, but it’s kind of the perfect place to catch up with friends (if you don’t really care about the action).

When I told my boyfriend I was going, we joked about how many teams we could name and ended up testing ourselves on Sporcle. Terrible results. I can only confidently name about 8 teams. Learned about a whole new team I’ve never seen before, too, sorry Arizona Diamondbacks.

I stayed and watched the game until a little after 9 to beat the rush out. It’s always so crazy getting in and out of the stadium. They did have a fast lane, though, through Clear - worth it for anyone who already uses it for travel. I left early because it was freezing, hovering somewhere around 40 degrees. The more seasoned attendees came prepared with blankets. I had toe warmers (which I carry at all times), but it wasn’t quite enough; I’m still fighting off a cold today with my trusty Zicam and Cepacol.

Unfortunately, the Yankees had a strong start, but the Athletics pulled off a 3–2 win, a tough one for the home team.

2. What to wear

This week, my mind is on Coachella. Am I personally going? Have I ever been? No. But I’m fascinated by the festival and everyone’s panic over getting their outfit just right. I saw a woman on TikTok share her survival pack for the weekend, and it included individual toilet seat covers for the porta-potties. Now that is my kind of prep. I’m still cracking up about this. Clearly, I’m not built to face the elements lol.

Now I have to shout out my friend Bella and her, Olivia, for their Lady Gaga inspired outfits from last year.

Bella and Olivia went all out with their looks, channeling iconic Gaga moments. Olivia, no stranger to the spotlight, is a Producer, Actor, and Writer who also serves as a Standardized Patient. I’m mentioning it because for those (like me) who don’t know, standardized patients are individuals who are specially trained to act as patients for the instruction, practice, and assessment of medical examination skills of medical students, fellows, residents, and other health care providers. How cool is that?!

Bella (above) went with an all-black moment. Look at the movement on that stunning fringe dress! See below for Olivia’s take on the Abracadabra music video look. It’s bold, but it’s also festival proof: comfortable sneakers, a cute bikini, a hat, gloves, and a scarf. You get the reference, and no pointy nails were needed.

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I put together a list of my top picks for Coachella HERE and styled a few of them together below:

Maybe I went a bit too on the nose with the whole western theme for this one, but I really love these chocolate trousers and leather boots. I actually just placed a bid on this pair of STAUD’s Wally Black Ankle Boots on Poshmark. I’m missing a good pointed boot in my rotation since my favorite pair broke last year. If you see me wearing them on the streets, you know where they came from.

3. What to read

I found The Witch by Marie NDiaye on a New York Times recommended reading roundup. It was originally published around 30 years ago in France, but is experiencing a revival of sorts as the version rendered by her translator Jordan Stump has just been put on the 2026 International Booker Prize shortlist. The story centers on Lucie, who comes from a long line of witches, though her own powers are frustratingly limited - she can see into the future, but these glimpses are often reduced to small, almost useless details. Against the wishes of her husband, she initiates her twin daughters into this inherited magic, only to watch them quickly surpass her and, just as quickly, pull away. From there, things begin to quietly unravel.

What I found so compelling is that the book isn’t really about magic in the traditional sense. It’s about motherhood, shame, and the slow erosion of stability, within a marriage, within a family, within a life. Lucie’s family line just happens to have special powers; they live their days like every other normal family, working normal jobs (like Accounting) and going to school. There’s something almost maddening about the way Lucie moves through it all. As increasingly unsettling things happen, she meets them with a kind of passivity that makes everything feel even more off. Money worries linger in the background, but it’s the breakdown of her relationships that really weighs on her, and on you as the reader.

I ended up listening on Audible (it wasn’t readily available through my usual circuit of The Strand or McNally Jackson), and I’m so glad I did. The narrator, Virginia Grainger, delivers the story with this almost comical precision, her intonation sharpening the book’s strangeness in a way that is so entertaining. Listening to it felt like I was watching something unfold, without actually looking at a screen.

It’s a slim, unsettling read (or listen), a great pick if you’re drawn to stories where everyday life starts to feel just slightly off.

Last Friday started the way all good nights in New York should, at a friend’s apartment, lingering over pizza before anything too serious begins.

Komal had ordered a few pies from Rosie’s Pizza Bar in Bushwick, which arrived still warm, the kind of thick, fluffy crust that feels almost unexpected at first bite. Each pie was good, but the Devil stood out: tomato sauce, mozzarella, spicy soppressata, jalapeño, and a drizzle of Mike’s Hot Honey. Sweet, spicy, and just indulgent enough to justify a second slice.

Komal is one of my most treasured friends in New York, the kind of person who’s always up for a slightly ridiculous plan, whether it’s a bookstore crawl, a new bar, a rave, or an outdoor picnic. But truly, there’s no one I’d rather sit across from at hot pot, a sacred winter ritual in this city. This time around, the plan was an all-nighter rave. Komal - can’t help but love ya.

From there, we wandered out into the night and eventually landed at what I can only describe as one of the best parties in New York. I won’t say too much, but if you ever find yourself in that particular line, just know you’re not getting home early. I somehow always leave at 5am.

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Last night, I went to Metrograph on Ludlow for the first time with my boyfriend to see Allegro non troppo, a 1976 Italian animated film often described as a more irreverent, slightly chaotic counterpart to Fantasia. It pairs classical music with a series of animated vignettes, tied together with live-action interludes that lean heavily into satire.

I got there early, which gave me time to look around properly. I loved the little library and the candy section, which felt unusually well curated for a movie theater. There was even a fettuccine-flavored candy, which I found both hilarious and strangely compelling. The popcorn came boxed up in a cute Metrograph-branded bag, which I appreciated aesthetically, though I did wish it had been popped fresh.

I’ve always loved a small theater, and this one delivered. The seats were upright, but not uncomfortable, and it reminded me of the theater at home in Mamaroneck, which is actually the sister theater to Cobble Hill Cinema.

As for the film, my boyfriend and I left with different impressions. It is obviously a take on the machismo of Italy, but by today’s standards, maybe there was just a bit too much boob on screen?! Or I don’t like seeing women get put down - I didn’t realize till I saw this movie how tired I am of women being the butt of the joke. And even if the movie was made in the 70s, I guess I could’ve decided not to support this kind of “art” today. Sorry, not sorry. Still, I loved the skit with the cat in the abandoned house. It was tender and a little eerie, like a glimpse into a lost world. While Allegro probably isn’t a movie I would revisit, I loved seeing something I wouldn’t normally pick, and am definitely coming back to see Empress Li - definition of badass woman.

After the movie, we walked over to Bridges, where I had made a reservation for a late dinner. One of my favorite things about the restaurant is that the menu is tightly edited, around 12 to 15 items, which I always appreciate. No endless scroll, no filler, just a concise list of things you actually want to eat.

I was thrilled to see the Comté tart with morel mushrooms and leeks still on the menu, and we also ordered the Live Maine sea urchin with potato and meyer lemon and the Cured tuna with dates and young onion. I had an amazing glass of wine from Avreyon, (not to be confused with Avignon - since I haven’t gotten my WSET yet, I won’t pretend to tell you its profile - but it paired perfectly with everything we ordered.

Design-wise, the wallpaper is gorgeous up close, but from farther away it takes on an odd brick-like quality that I’m not fully convinced by. The stainless steel light fixtures, however, are beautiful. We also got lucky and were offered a booth, the one right next to the booth we sat in the first time we went - so cute.

I really cannot recommend this spot enough. It is one of the sexiest date spots in New York. It’s not loud, they play great music in hushed tones, and the service is some of the warmest and most attentive I’ve experienced in the city.

2. What to wear

This week, my brother sent me an open casting call from Vogue looking for stylish young Americans to feature across the country. I considered it briefly. I’ve been following Biz Sherbet for a little bit now, and her documentation of college Spring Break has been so fun to follow, but I realized, I don’t really take photos of myself.

I love getting dressed. I think about it constantly. But documenting it has never come naturally to me. Maybe it’s not loving how I look when I see it reflected back. Maybe it’s the awareness of someone on the other side of the lens. Either way, the idea of submitting photos, and especially filming a video introducing myself, stopped me in my tracks.

My friends would describe me as outspoken, not shy in the slightest. But something about performing for a camera feels unnatural. It’s a different kind of visibility, and one I’m not particularly drawn to.

So instead of submitting an application, I’m doing what I always do—taking mental notes, saving pieces, and building outfits in my head.

Here’s what’s stayed with me this week.

As always, this section isn’t about promotion. It’s about inspiration. I’m someone who sits with a purchase for a long time before committing. I’d almost always rather search The RealReal, Vestiaire, or Poshmark than buy something outright. There’s something more satisfying about finding it that way.

My sister will tell you I regularly empty out my closet, pulling pieces for donation without hesitation. I don’t like clutter. I like knowing exactly what I have, and wearing all of it.

Instead of a typical edit, I’m sharing a few ideas where you can get a similar look.

Column 1: On the top I’m wearing a bodysuit from Revolve that honestly could have a better cut. This one from Saks looks much more comfortable.

In the middle I’m wearing the cropped faux fur coat from Gap, it’s unfortunately sold out, but all sorts of funky hats like mine can me found at East Village Hats. I had a vintage Oscar de la Renta hat my sister got me custom fit to my head there. This jacket from Aligne does not at all resemble mine but it has a gorgeous silhouette and is a flattering alternative.

At the bottom I’m wearing my mom’s old Anne Fontaine shirt. I’ve been scouring TRR for new ones to add to my collection I really like this one in black (which much to my despair has been purchased before I could get my hands on it) L’Agence has a similar top also in black but I’ve never personally tried their clothes so I cant speak to the quality. Old Anne Fontaine is legendary.

Column 2: Here I am wearing a one of one dress from Reformation. They have an incredible selection of vintage in their Lower East Side store, its a great place to look for something a little more unique and bold.

In the middle I’m wearing a dress (again pilfered from my mother’s closet) since I don’t know where that’s from another vibrant, hard-to-miss, look would be this Oséree number. With heels, it works in a city, with sandals and a bikini layered underneath, a fancy beach party. World’s your oyster.

At the bottom I’m wearing Suzie Kondi x ba&sh collab from last summer, you can find similar products on Suzie Kondi, these from POSSE are fun in red, these old JCrew on ThredUp go the sportier route. I’ll admit I lost my $250 Suzie Kondi’s somewhere last summer (possibly in the Rockaways) so I found them for $50 on Poshmark - Poshmark is your friend, people! Use it!

Column 3: On the top, I’m wearing an old Jcrew Lady blazer, their new collection has a very darling blue one in tweed. To shake off the seriousness of the jacket you can pair it with some wide leg pants or a barrel jean - I’ve been liking these from Madewell.

In the middle, I’m wearing these sunglasses that I bought in store at Montce in Miami, the hat is from Will + Bear, I found one on sale at Poshmark HERE. The winner of this look was my mom’s long light brown shearling coat. There’s a vendor HERE on Etsy that sells similar coats for <$500, a steal for real shearling in my opinion.

At the bottom, I’m wearing one of my boyfriend’s old chore coats from Todd Synder - it's sold out but you can achieve a similar vibe with this wool sweater. I paired it with my trusty Nili Lotan x Target trousers that I mentioned in an earlier newsletter. The trousers are still available in a size 6 for one lucky person.

One last thing, I just saw THIS beautiful number from Tory Burch, if I had the occasion (and budget) to be a flapper, I would do it in a heartbeat. There’s a wonderful lady who sells vintage nightdresses off Perry St in the summer, same vibe for the low cost of $60-120, depending on the style. This horrendously blurry shot does not do it justice, but these dresses are so easy to throw on for any occasion in the summer, rooftop, park bench hang, sidewalk drinks, you name it. Again, not a fan of the camera.

3. What to read

I came across Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City by Matthew Desmond through Miles Franklin on Instagram, someone I’ve come to think of as a bit of a quiet authority on his community in Princeton. He works in high jewelry and regularly shares the pieces he handles, but just as often, he’s posting small, thoughtful observations of the world around him: a gravel driveway, a tulip just beginning to open, the streets of Princeton in a certain light.

He has a way of noticing beauty that makes you reconsider how you move through your own surroundings.

So seeing him share this book felt fitting. It reminded me that someone can be deeply attuned to aesthetics while also thinking seriously about the structures that shape people’s lives, especially those who are often invisible. There’s something grounding in that balance.

For context, the book follows the lives of eight families, both Black and white, and their interactions with two landlords, Sherrena and Tobin, in Milwaukee’s poorest neighborhoods. It vividly portrays the human toll of eviction, including depression, illness, and the disruption of family and community life.

While I’m still working through this book, it’s eye-opening to learn that eviction isn’t just something that happens as a result of poverty, but something that actively creates it. The book moves between deeply personal stories and broader systems at play, and by the end, it’s hard to unsee how precarious housing can shape every other part of someone’s life.

Last Saturday felt like a preview of spring, bright, warm, just shy of 60. The kind of day that turns a simple reservation into something longer, looser, and better than planned.

We had a table for four at Morandi that quickly became seven, spilling out onto the sidewalk over spritzes, carpaccio, and burrata. If you don’t know, it’s got a much nicer patch of sun than neighboring Bar Pisellino.

It was warm enough that I abandoned my black turtleneck midway through and ducked down the street to pick up a T-shirt at LESET (something to keep in mind if you ever find yourself overdressed in the West Village).

From there, we made our way east to celebrate a friend’s final days in her St. Mark’s apartment. We had Empellón Taqueria in mind — long a favorite for its margaritas and reliably good tacos — but were surprised to find the outdoor tables gone (inside was crammed with just barely 21s). Not quite ready to give up on sitting outside, we wandered a block over and landed at 345 Cantina, the kind of place you’d normally pass without a second thought. An open table, though, has a way of changing your standards. It ended up being exactly right. The family next to us probably wasn’t too happy with our shenanigans, oh well… that aside, don’t skip the queso, it was sneakily good.

After a couple of hours at the Cantina, we headed into Brooklyn before going to Elsewhere to see Mind Enterprises — an Italian two-man group from Turin, in the States for the first time, and clearly enjoying it. It was delightfully unpolished: Campari onstage, one in a slim, vaguely ’80s suit, the other in shorts and a polo, and a looping montage behind them of the lead singer walking on a beach with a beautiful woman, as if to say, yes, this is the fantasy. We had a couple of extra tickets and two more friends joined, which made it feel like a proper finale to a day that had already stretched far beyond its original plan.

2. What to wear

Over the past week, I’ve been going back and forth with my friend Alyssa — a kickass lawyer — about her work wardrobe.

She put it plainly: she’s been relying on simple sweaters (too many), has a rotation of pants she doesn’t quite love, and misses that feeling of being pulled together in a way that’s both easy and sharp.

Which, to me, is the sweet spot.

So I put together a small lookbook for her, found HERE, of pieces that feel polished enough for the office but still have some personality, along with a few dresses that can carry her into the inevitable run of summer dinners, weddings, and everything in between.

Below is my dream Saturday brunch outfit with easy pants, fun accessories, and bold sneakers. Maybe a worn-in oversized black leather jacket on top. Side note, I’ve been dying to try the Peacock Candle collection. Moroccan Mint is looking like the clear winner for me.

3. What to read

My sister picked up Strangers by Belle Burden at a bookstore in Hanover, and over the course of the weekend, she and my mother passed it between them in the quieter moments between visiting my brother at Dartmouth. I’m reading it now, which somehow makes it feel like the conversation is still ongoing.

The book left an indelible impression on me. As someone who truly believes in love, its heartbreaking account of divorce made me pause. It challenges the instinct to romanticize relationships and instead asks you to consider their practical realities. Love, as it turns out, is rarely practical. It’s often tumultuous, clumsy, and deeply human.

What struck me most was the thread of financial independence woven throughout Belle’s story. It sharpened something I’ve been thinking about more consciously: the importance of understanding your own financial standing, especially as a woman entering a partnership or considering marriage. This isn’t a book that discourages love, but it does quietly insist on awareness, autonomy, and self-possession alongside it.

I also loved hearing Belle speak on Mrs Dow Jones’ podcast. I’ve followed Mrs Dow Jones for years, and her approach to financial literacy has genuinely shaped how I think about saving and investing. I even had the chance to hear her speak alongside Sallie Krawcheck, whose perspective on women and wealth is equally compelling.

Finally, there’s something quietly powerful in Belle’s own story. She writes about always wanting to be a writer, but choosing a more conventional path as a lawyer. And yet, through this memoir, her voice feels undeniable. Nothing feels superfluous. She writes with a kind of restraint that makes the emotional moments land even harder, pulling you into the intimate, often disorienting experience of heartbreak and what comes after.

There’s something to be said for a place that still leaves room for a bit of luck.

I went to DOMODOMO with my sister Ana last Friday, after my friends’ pop-up (more on that below), without a reservation, at what was very much peak dinner hour, when the host let us know she had been holding one table for walk-ins. A small miracle, and one that felt strangely familiar. On Valentine’s Day, I had nearly the same experience, walking in for lunch with my boyfriend and managing to snag a table just as easily.

We ordered the spicy tuna cones to start (don’t make this rookie mistake, the spicy mayo is inside the BOTTOM of the cone lol), followed by the beef udon, which is not to be missed. The broth alone is worth returning for. Then a blue crab hand roll and a wagyu hand roll, both simple and excellent in a way that doesn’t need much explanation.

The first time I went, I noticed Trevor Noah dining a few tables over, which, if anything, confirmed what becomes obvious pretty quickly. It’s great for a reason.

What I like most about DOMODOMO is its restraint. The space is unfussy, almost quiet in its design, and entirely focused on the food. Nothing feels overworked or performative, just thoughtful, well-executed Japanese dishes that speak for themselves.

A reminder that sometimes the best tables aren’t planned.

2. What to wear

Last week, my friend and fellow Richmond alum, Erin, hosted a pop-up with Anine Bing. As Head of Marketing for Emerging Brands, Jewelry, and Watches at Amazon, she already has more than enough on her plate, but she’s also been steadily building her own styling business on the side.

Through With Erin Libby, she offers everything from closet organization to personal shopping and styling. What’s most impressive is the consistency—showing up online, growing a following (nearly 5K on TikTok), and now bringing that work into real life through events like this one. It’s not just a side project, it’s a real commitment to making something of her own.

I’m always proud to see friends follow through on something they care about, especially in a way that feels this thoughtful and well-executed.

And of course, I left with a few notes of my own. I’ll be coming back for the Cyrus Jacket.—the color is gorgeous, it’s beautifully cut, and has just the right amount of drape.

See the full suite of her styling services on witherinlibby.com

In a recent conversation, my friend Michael mentioned he has about $800 in Banana Republic credit to spend. My immediate thought was: perfect timing. With a full slate of weddings coming up this spring and summer, it’s an ideal opportunity to invest in something tailored for welcome parties and the in-between events that are often harder to dress for than the ceremony itself.

I pulled together a small edit of pieces he might consider—lightweight suiting, relaxed tailoring, and a few options that feel polished without being overly formal. The kind of things that work just as well at a rehearsal dinner as they do at a slightly more casual evening event.

This is, admittedly, something I find myself doing often—fielding outfit questions, sending links, and helping friends think through what actually makes sense for their lives. I’m always happy to be a sounding board, especially when it leads to a wardrobe that feels both intentional and easy.

As it happens, Banana Republic also reached out to share that their Friends & Family sale is currently underway (up to 40% off select styles through Sunday, 3/22), making this an even better time to take a look if you’re in a similar position and need occasionwear for the months ahead. Here he is pictured below in the Herringbone Linen Suit Jacket and Pants I recommended.

This week’s edit was inspired by my friend Kim, who is also deep in the wedding guest dress search.

She sent me a blue strapless dress she was considering, and while the color was stunning, something about the color blocking felt a bit… ambitious. One of those pieces that looks great online but could easily end up wearing you in real life.

After a bit of back and forth, she agreed to pivot and try a few of the berry-toned options I sent instead. Not her usual color at all, which made me appreciate it even more. But she was game, and I knew it would work beautifully with her go-to gold jewelry.

I’ve since been thinking about jewelry to complete the look. Early this week, I came across the new Heaven Mayhem Frame collection—Demi-fine jewelry crafted from Sterling Silver or 14k Gold Vermeil with Lab-stones. The Gaze Choker instantly caught my eye, but at $480, I couldn’t justify the splurge just yet. Instead, I found the Marquise Pendant Choker from The M Jewelers, with a similar vibe, for a fraction of the price. They’re also currently running their semi-annual sale, up to 60% off. If I could put together a whole look around the Aje dress, this is what it would be:

3. What to read

On Friday afternoons for almost two years, I’ve been going to YogaSpark in Westchester. It’s a small studio, just one room, the kind of place where you know the receptionist by name. I first started taking classes with Carl back in 2019, before the pandemic, and was happy to find him still teaching in the area all these years later. Over time, I’ve followed him from studio to studio.

Carl is a former touring musician and singer-songwriter who found yoga later in life, out of necessity. I wasn’t able to make it to class last week, but my dad, who I’ve been gently (and persistently) trying to convince to stretch, picked up a copy of Carl’s new book, The Unself Help - How to Get Out of Your Own Way and Start Being Happy.

The book picks up where most self-help leaves off. It traces Carl’s own path through addiction, loss, and major life upheaval, and the slower, more deliberate work of rebuilding from there. He pulls from a wide range of influences—psychology, neuroscience, yoga, Buddhism—without it feeling overly academic. Instead, it reads as a lived philosophy, grounded in the small, daily habits that shape how we think and move through the world. Like his teaching, it isn’t preachy. There’s a dry sense of humor running through it that keeps things grounded, the same way it does in class, where he’ll occasionally say something under his breath that makes the whole room quietly snicker.

I haven’t finished it yet, but already I’m finding myself returning to ideas around humility and honesty—principles that come up in his classes, too, even if they’re never explicitly named.

What Carl has created in his classes is rare. There’s no pressure to be the best in the room, no expectation beyond showing up. Somehow, he still guides you there. Week after week, I’ve learned to focus on my breath, to quiet my mind, to tune out everything happening beyond those four walls.

He also hasn’t strayed far from his music roots. Every third Friday of the month, he hosts a themed class, playing music throughout and, during savasana, bringing out his guitar to sing. A recent favorite was The Songs of Carole King—equal parts grounding and unexpectedly moving.

Being able to access that kind of calm, even briefly, feels like a skill you carry with you. And that, to me, is one of the most valuable things someone can teach.

My Saturday nights in New York rarely follow a plan. One drink becomes three stops, and the night usually ends with pizza.

In my last post, I mentioned that our spa day did not, in fact, end at Jeremy’s. It continued, as many evenings do, after a quick reset at a friend’s apartment and a change of clothes. At some point while getting ready, I decided my hair was not doing the bob justice. It had reached that slightly noncommittal in-between length, between lob and bob, so I suggested my friend take a pair of scissors and trim off an inch or so while we stood in the bathroom laughing. It felt impulsive and slightly ridiculous, but exactly right for the outfit.

Our first stop was The Blond, where we met two more friends and discovered the place very much alive and well. The room was practically bursting at the seams. The crowd felt lively without skewing too young, though promoters were ushering in larger groups, and the space felt a bit more commercial than it did in my earlier twenties. Still, everyone was happily dancing to early 2000s throwbacks, which is hard to complain about.

From there, we walked down the street to Ketchy Shuby, briefly losing half our group along the way. The basement was packed, and the DJ had switched to an afrobeats-heavy set, but the energy felt a little too eager for my taste—the kind of room where people seem more focused on scanning the crowd than actually enjoying themselves.

Needing a change of scenery, my friend and I slipped across the street to Broome St. Project, which has quickly become one of my favorite lounges downtown. The music was great, but the room felt more relaxed. The sort of place where you can actually talk to people and still feel like you are out.

Eventually, the day caught up with us, and we wandered over to Nolita Pizza for a giant slice before sending ourselves home. Though if there is not a slice in sight, let’s be honest, I am just as likely to end up at the halal cart for a hot dog.

2. What to wear

While there has been a lot of noise following Paris Fashion Week, I find myself a little exhausted by all of it. Too much chatter!! I wish the presentations were more spread out so we could sit with collections longer.

Looking ahead to spring, these are the pieces I hope to see while picking up coffee on weekend mornings. Clothes that feel easy but are still considered. Men, I haven’t forgotten about you!

A suede overshirt that looks better the more it’s worn, an easy knit polo underneath, and dark denim cuffed just enough. Paired with SeaVees clogs, it’s the sort of outfit that feels relaxed but suggests someone woke up early, read the paper, and wandered out for a second cup of coffee.

Also worth mentioning: I bought socks from imogene + willie as a slightly joking Valentine’s gift, and they turned out to be the softest socks I’ve ever given someone. I’ve since bought multiple pairs. Their cotton is top-notch, and they come in all sorts of fun colors and patterns.

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