I hosted a lovely little candlelight dinner in my apartment this evening and then it was off to John Street Church for more candlelight and "Silent Night" and now I am back home, blissfully content, curled up in my favorite chair with a cup of green tea, kicking my crossed-over leg in time with the rhythm of the falling rain and thinking how nice it will be to have a full day off tomorrow. My family and I have made a pact not to exchange gifts this year, and so I'm not expecting anything beyond a leisurely lunch. But this particular stage you join me on tonight, Windowlicker, is the absolute -- Diana Vreeland says, wash your children's hair with champagne! -- antithesis of all that, and so I've been musing on what I'd like to find if Santa were really real (readers under twelve: oh, but he is). I am a minimalist at heart, and so I like the idea of anything I can carry, especially when traveling, or secret away in a pocket when my mood changes. I seldom wear earrings because they slip right out of my ears. At a big holiday party I went to a couple of weeks ago, I was hurtling toward inconsolable at the end of the evening because I'd lost a precious half of a pair that had been made especially for me. Of course, it became quite a circus of empathy, culminating in the charming, Gatsby-esque host plucking the missing object of my desire out of the loveseat, accompanied by fanfare akin to extracting the baby in a king cake. So I don't wish for earrings. If they find me, I just hold on to them for dear life, and try not to make too much of a scene. You'd think necklaces would be a different story, but remember those much-adored chains? I broke one the very next day when it caught on the handle of my oven, which I was using for the third or fourth time since I've moved into my apartment, where I've lived for as many years. Serves me right for wanting the goat cheese on my salad just a little charbroiled; that's what Zucco, my favorite French diner, is for. I feel like pins are out of fashion, so I'll wish for one of those. Nothing too extravagant. And not going anywhere, either.
[Vintage Fendi Bull Brooch, $100 at Etsy]
Bonus pick:
I bet men hate these and I'd wear them everywhere. They remind me of Jerry's in Soho, where I spent many happy evenings when I first arrived in New York. I was reading The Mandarins by Simone de Beauvoir, discovering the thwarted whims of adulthood and attendant ecstasy of pure freedom, and looking for work while living mostly on a credit card that I wouldn't pay off in full for a decade. And wouldn't have traded it for anything.
[Chanel Striped Patent Platform Pumps, $700 at Bluefly]
Windowlicker - from the French for window shopping: faire du lèche-vitrine - often appears on Tuesday and Thursdays at 10am EST-ish.
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