A woman came into Dechoes College Park the other day and asked if we ever got in Hermes Birkin bags. I told her no- never. But, there was one time when this woman brought in one that was brand new when I was working with Kerri, and we were pretty suspicious of its authenticity. Why would someone try to hock a wait-listed bag? Some things are way to good to be true.

There, now I have a reason to post this picture. Oh, and I finally found that article on Serge that I was searching for.

I was looking for an article in T Magazine that I had read about Serge Gainsbourg, and I stumbled upon this Grey Gardens story by accident. Here’s the introduction:

A 1975 documentary captured the eccentric lives of Edith Bouvier Beale, known as Big Edie, and her daughter, Little Edie, in Grey Gardens, the filthy, dilapidated mansion they occupied in East Hampton.

Two years after Big Edie died in 1977, Little Edie sold the house to Sally Quinn and Benjamin C. Bradlee, who undertook a massive renovation. These photographs, which have never been seen by the public before, were taken by a photographer hired by Ms. Quinn at the time she and her husband purchased the house, in order to capture the extent of the decay.

The photographs and the captions are stunning. My favorite and the most jarring to is #6 . The birdcage looks like a head with asymmetrical hair. The light cast below, like the shoulders of the figure which is slightly tucked into bed.

I loved the documentary. I love Rufus Wainwright’s Grey Gardens song (it’s on Poses, download it).  And I will admit that I am very curious about the new Grey Gardens movie. I read a couple of postings about Drew, who will be playing little-Edie, complain about wearing the fat suit. At least she didn’t have to actually gain the weight like say Sly Stallone for Cop Land right? That Hollywood weight goes away at the end of the day.

I never got to post any pictures from the wedding. These images were taken by photographer Mike Briggs. Lewis and Brook Van Alstyne looked dapper as could be. Here are a couple of kissy pictures. So slather on the Caramex, pucker up, and gimme my tongue kiss!

This picture is from the T Mag Holiday Issue. I’m going to blow this up and put it on my wall so that I can look at it all the time.

I, like millions of other people, was very moved by Susan Boyle’s Les Miserables performance on Britain’s Got Talent. After I saw the clip, it put a smile on my face and a spring in my step. I could listen to her sing just the I dream a dream line in a continuous loop until it lulls me to sleep curled in fetal position sucking my thumb.

Susan wasn’t well exactly welcomed onto the stage, that is, until she unleashed her money-maker pipes. If you watch the clip, the people in the audience are snickering and contorting their faces. Tanya Gold, a commentator for the Guardian wrote:

“It wasn’t singer Susan Boyle who was ugly on ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ so much as our reaction to her… Why are we so shocked when ‘ugly’ women can do things, rather than sitting at home weeping and wishing they were somebody else? Men are allowed to be ugly and talented.”

Who doesn’t love an underdog story? Oh yeah, I picked this color for the Wayfarers because after seeing that hand-on-hip move she does, all signs point to cherry red. I bet her cat Pebbles was eatin’ Fancy Feast or Sheba food that night.

Cuba Cuba Cuba. The door is ajar. A bus boy pointed out the forbidden country to me one morning at breakfast on the cliffs of Negril. That’s the closest that I have even been to Cuba. (Gleefully rubbing my hands together with 8 fingers crossed) All of that may change in the future. If could eat a Cuban sub in Cuba, I would be the happiest person ever. E – V – E -R.

So, these pictures really have nothing to do with what I wrote above. It’s a hodgepodge of Holzer, Ksubi, and 10 Magazine. Enjoy with a Cuban and a cigar.

I spent a part of the week with a bridesmaid and a bride-to-be on Fort Lauderdale Beach. We stayed at the Harbor Beach Marriott and it was exactly what we needed before the wedding race. Yesterday, we spent the afternoon getting ready for the big event at the Grand Bohemian Downtown. The make-up artist airbrushed my face orange like a Cheeto. It was great.

I spent three hours last night tailoring a bridesmaid dress on myself. I have put off trying the thing on for like a week. It has been staring at me from the corner of my room. It plum. Really it’s purple.  I have a to-do list that looks like an overdue grocery list.

I read a dozen articles on Maison Martin Margiela and Willem de Kooning this morning to relax before the day begins.