aubergine

dress: Geld Iaz, 2003 | eyewear: Yves St Laurent, 2009 | sandals: Sam Edelman, 2010

 

hey, can somebody tell me: what is the deal with fucking eggplant parmesan? okay seriously now. once upon a time there was this place called Gonzo on 13th St which, aside from having a really awesome pizza, made the bestest eggplant parmesan in the world. but for some reason, the owner decided she wasn’t going to serve it anymore, despite their regular customers clamoring for it constantly (according to the staff). well, Gonzo has since closed down forever, go figure.

but it didn’t matter, because NYC still had Fabio Trabocchi then, who made the absolute bestest eggplant parmesan in the world during his very short stint at Villa Pacri. so on occasion, despite its location in the third ring of hell, i sometimes dragged my ass alls the way to Villa Pacri just to have that eggplant.

of course now the great Fabio Trabocchi has left NYC, he’s opened a new place back at his old DC stomping grounds. and evidently, the eggplant went with him. although the manager agreed with me and even went so far as to have me speak to the new chef, the new chef at Villa Pacri has "changed the menu for the season," and intends to replace the eggplant parmesan with "maybe a lasagna or something" instead. is lasagna more summery than eggplant all of a sudden? the fuck i know.

the (appetizer) dish used to consist of all of like maybe four thin slices of eggplant— for a whopping $16. and yet, just like the genius mastermind owner of Gonzo, Villa Pacri has taken it off the menu.

sigh. i’m just sayin.

 

it lingered there, to touch your hair

(sarong) dress: Geld Iaz, 1998 | eyewear: Yves St Laurent, 2009 | bag: Missoni, 2008

 

being in town this weekend made me realize it’s been awhile since i’ve had a nice staycation. i really loved it, the city was so incredibly serene and the weather was perfect. one night we just lounged around in the dark with all the doors and windows open to let the great balmy air breeze through the apartment while we enjoyed the awesome sound of silence.

yay! :)

 

aint no sunshine…

dress (as top): Geld Iaz, 2003 | leggings: Poof, 2011 | vest: Adrienne Vittadini, 2010 | shoes: Valentino, 2007 | bag: Azzedine Alaïa, 2005 | headband: Kathy Jeanne, 2011

 

i have a friend, we call her "Bunny" Kim (she’s the bestest social butterfly we know, so we gave her a socialite’s name). Bunny Kim has terrible luck with airplanes and taxis; her flights are forever delayed and she has this uncanny knack for attracting caustic cab drivers who always argue with her about her specified route. but Bunny Kim has this incredible talent for sunshine, wherever she goes it follows. well, Bunny Kim left for a trip to Seoul a week and a half ago, and she took the sunshine with her; it rained every single day of the twelve days she was gone. now that Bunny Kim has returned home to New York, the sunshine has reappeared with her. isn’t that amazing?

i wish we could figure out a way to market Bunny Kim’s talent like Sharon Stone in The Muse. no guarantees and she delivers nothing tangible, but you pay must dearly in cash and gifts for her to hang around your place of business or travel on vacation with you (be sure to check your flight status before you leave home) or attend your outdoor weddings and whatnot. consider her your liason to Mother Nature. wouldn’t that be nice?

yea, there’s no direct correlation with the outfit i’m wearing or anything, i’m just sayin.

 

bitches aint $h!t but clothes and kicks.